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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:54:22 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:54:22 -0700 |
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+} +.poem1 p.i4 { + margin-left: 2em; +} +.poem1 p.i6 { + margin-left: 3em +} +.poem1 p.i8 { + margin-left: 4em +} +.poem1 p.i10 { + margin-left: 5em +} +.poem1 p.i12 { + margin-left: 6em +} +.poem1 p.i16 { + margin-left: 8em +} +.poem1 p.i24 { + margin-left: 12em +} +.poem1 p.i32 { + margin-left: 16em +} +.poem1 p.i40 { + margin-left: 20em +} + +.figright { + padding-right: 0; padding-left: 1em; font-size: 0.9em; + padding-bottom: 1em; margin: 0px; padding-top: 1em; text-align: center; +} +.figright { + float: right; +} + + a:link { + text-decoration: none; + } + + a:visited { + color: #3366ff; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration: none; + } + + a:hover { + color: #3366ff; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration: none; + } + + a:active { + text-decoration: underline; + } + + a.contents:link { + color:#000000; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration:none; + } + + a.contents:visited { + color:#000000; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration:none; + } + + a.contents:hover { + color:#3366ff; + background:#ffffff; + text-decoration:none; + } + + a.contents:active { + color: #cc0099; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration:underline; + } + + a.note:link { + color:#000000; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration:underline; + } + + a.note:visited { + color:#000000; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration:underline; + } + + a.note:hover { + color:#3366ff; + background:#ffffff; + text-decoration:underline; + } + + a.note:active { + color: #cc0099; + background: #ffffff; + text-decoration:underline; + } + + </style> + </head> + + <body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Lippincott's Magazine, Vol. 22, August, 1878, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lippincott's Magazine, Vol. 22, August, 1878 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: July 22, 2006 [EBook #18885] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Lesley Halamek and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<table align="center" summary="note"> +<tr> + <td class="note"> +Transcriber's Note: I have added a Table of Contents and a List of Illustrations. +</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<br /><hr class="full" /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<h1><span class="emph">L</span>IPPINCOTT'S <span class="emph">M</span>AGAZINE</h1><br /><br /> + +<h5>OF</h5><br /><br /> + +<h2><i>POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE</i>.</h2><br /><br /> + +<h4>AUGUST, 1878.</h4><br /><br /> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h5>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, <br /> +by <span class="sc">J. B. Lippincott & Co</span>., <br /> +in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</h5> + + <hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + + <h3>CONTENTS</h3> + + <table width="90%" align="center" border="0" summary="contents"> +<tr> + <td colspan="2" valign="top"> </td> + <td class="right">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page137">ALONG THE DANUBE.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Edward King.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page137">137</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p155">THE PARIS EXPOSITION OF 1878.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Edward H. Knight.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page155">155</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page169">SENIORITY.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Howard Glyndon.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page169">169</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<span style="float: right;">[T.B.C.] </span><a class="contents" href="#page170">"FOR PERCIVAL."</a></td> +<td> </td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page170">170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page187">A WELSH WATERING-PLACE.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Wirt Sikes.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page187">187</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p196">NOCTURNE</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Margaret J. Preston.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page196">196</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<span style="float: right;">[T.B.C.] </span><a class="contents" href="#page197">THROUGH WINDING WAYS.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Ellen W. Olney.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page197">197</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p213">A SEA-SOUND.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">John B. Tabb.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page213">213</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page214">THE BRITISH SOLDIER.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">H. James, Jr.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page214">214</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page222">A SAXON GOD.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Marguerite F. Aymar.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page222">222</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page232">MUSIC NOTATION.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Marie Howland.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page232">232</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page242">SAMBO: A MAN AND A BROTHER.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">S. A. Sheilds.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page242">242</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page247">THE EMPRESS EUGÉNIE.</a></td> +<td><span class="sc">Lucy H. Hooper.</span></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page247">247</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p252">OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.</a></td> +<td> </td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page252">252</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page262">LITERATURE OF THE DAY.</a></td> +<td> </td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page262">262</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> + + <table width="90%" align="center" border="0" summary="illustrations"> +<tr> + <td valign="top"> </td> + <td class="right">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page137">SOMENDRIA.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page137">137</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p139">RUSTCHUK.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page139">139</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p141">SISTOVA.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page141">141</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p143">NICOPOLIS.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page143">143</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p145">THE DANUBE AT TRAJAN'S BRIDGE.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page145">145</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p147">BOATS ON THE DANUBE.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page147">147</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p149">ORSOVA.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page149">149</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page151">BELGRADE, FROM SEMLIN.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page151">151</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p154">THE IRON GATES.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page154">154</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p155">THE TROCADÉRO AND GROUNDS.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page155">155</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page159">THE ENGLISH QUARTER, ON INTERNATIONAL AVENUE.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page159">159</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page161">BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF THE MAIN BUILDING AND ITS SURROUNDINGS.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page161">161</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p165"><span style="font-size: 0.9em;">VIEW IN THE PARK OF THE TROCADÉRO, SHOWING THE PAVILIONS OF PERSIA AND SIAM.</span></a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page165">165</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#page170">BERTIE LISLE.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page170">170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p177">"SHE DREW A SOFT WHITE CLOAK ROUND HER, AND WENT BY."</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page177">177</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p236-1">MUSICAL RESTS. +</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page236">236</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p236-2">MUSICAL NOTES.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page236">236</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p240-1">MUSIC EXAMPLE 1.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page240">240</a></td> +</tr> +<tr><td> +<a class="contents" href="#p240-2">MUSIC EXAMPLE 2.</a></td> +<td class="right"><a href="#page240">240</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> +<a name="page137" id="page137"></a><span class="left">[page 137]</span> +<h2>ALONG THE DANUBE.</h2> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/001.jpg"><img src="images/001-600.jpg" width="600" height="283" alt="SOMENDRIA." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>SOMENDRIA.</b> +</p><br /><br /> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Ada-Kalé</span> is a Turkish fortress which +seems to spring directly from the bosom +of the Danube at a point where three +curious and quarrelsome races come into +contact, and where the Ottoman thought +it necessary to have a foothold even in +times of profound peace. To the traveller +from Western Europe no spectacle +on the way to Constantinople was so impressive +as this ancient and picturesque +fortification, suddenly affronting the vision +with its odd walls, its minarets, its +red-capped sentries, and the yellow sinister +faces peering from balconies suspended +above the current. It was the +first glimpse of the Orient which one obtained; +it appropriately introduced one +to a domain which is governed by sword +and gun; and it was a pretty spot of color +in the midst of the severe and rather solemn +scenery of the Danubian stream. +Ada-Kalé is to be razed to the water's +edge—so, at least, the treaty between +Russia and Turkey has ordained—and +the Servian mountaineers will no longer +see the Crescent flag flying within rifle-shot +of the crags from which, by their +heroic devotion in unequal battle, they +long ago banished it.</p> +<p> +The Turks occupying this fortress during +the recent war evidently relied upon +Fate for their protection, for the walls of<a name="page138" id="page138"></a><span class="left">[page 138]</span> +Ada-Kalé are within a stone's throw of +the Roumanian shore, and every Mussulman +in the place could have been +captured in twenty minutes. I passed +by there one morning on the road from +Orsova, on the frontier of Hungary, to +Bucharest, and was somewhat amused +to see an elderly Turk seated in a small +boat near the Roumanian bank fishing. +Behind him were two soldiers, who served +as oarsmen, and rowed him gently +from point to point when he gave the +signal. Scarcely six hundred feet from +him stood a Wallachian sentry, watching +his movements in lazy, indifferent +fashion. And this was at the moment +that the Turks were bombarding Kalafat +in Roumania from Widdin on the Bulgarian +side of the Danube! Such a spectacle +could be witnessed nowhere save +in this land, "where it is always afternoon," +where people at times seem to +suspend respiration because they are too +idle to breathe, and where even a dog +will protest if you ask him to move +quickly out of your path. The old Turk +doubtless fished in silence and calm until +the end of the war, for I never heard +of the removal of either himself or his +companions.</p> +<p> +The journeys by river and by rail from +Lower Roumania to the romantic and +broken country surrounding Orsova are +extremely interesting. The Danube-stretches +of shimmering water among +the reedy lowlands—where the only +sign of life is a quaint craft painted with +gaudy colors becalmed in some nook, or +a guardhouse built on piles driven into +the mud—are perhaps a trifle monotonous, +but one has only to turn from them +to the people who come on board the +steamer to have a rich fund of enjoyment. +Nowhere are types so abundant +and various as on the routes of travel +between Bucharest and Rustchuk, or +Pesth and Belgrade. Every complexion, +an extraordinary piquancy and variety of +costume, and a bewildering array of languages +and dialects, are set before the +careful observer. As for myself, I found +a special enchantment in the scenery of +the lower Danube—in the lonely inlets, +the wildernesses of young shoots in the +marshes, the flights of aquatic birds as +the sound of the steamer was heard, the +long tongues of land on which the water-buffaloes +lay huddled in stupid content, +the tiny hummocks where villages of +wattled hovels were assembled. The +Bulgarian shore stands out in bold relief: +Sistova, from the river, is positively +beautiful, but the now historical Simnitza +seems only a mud-flat. At night +the boats touch upon the Roumanian +side for fuel—the Turks have always +been too lazy and vicious to develop the +splendid mineral resources of Bulgaria—and +the stout peasants and their wives +trundle thousands of barrows of coal +along the swinging planks. Here is raw +life, lusty, full of rude beauty, but utterly +incult. The men and women appear to +be merely animals gifted with speech. +The women wear almost no clothing: +their matted hair drops about their +shapely shoulders as they toil at their +burden, singing meanwhile some merry +chorus. Little tenderness is bestowed +on these creatures, and it was not without +a slight twinge of the nerves that I +saw the huge, burly master of the boat's +crew now and then bestow a ringing +slap with his open hand upon the neck +or cheek of one of the poor women who +stumbled with her load or who hesitated +for a moment to indulge in abuse of a +comrade. As the boat moved away these +people, dancing about the heaps of coal +in the torchlight, looked not unlike demons +disporting in some gruesome nook +of Enchanted Land. When they were +gypsies they did not need the aid of the +torches: they were sufficiently demoniacal +without artificial aid.</p> +<p> +Kalafat and Turnu-Severinu are small +towns which would never have been +much heard of had they not been in the +region visited by the war. Turnu-Severinu +is noted, however, as the point where +Severinus once built a mighty tower; +and not far from the little hamlet may +still be seen the ruins of Trajan's immemorial +bridge. Where the Danube +is twelve hundred yards wide and nearly +twenty feet deep, Apollodorus of Damascus +did not hesitate, at Trajan's command, +to undertake the construction of<a name="page139" id="page139"></a><span class="left">[page 139]</span> +a bridge with twenty stone and wooden arches. +He builded well, for one or two of the stone +piers still remain perfect after a lapse of sixteen +centuries, and eleven of them, more or less ruined, +are yet visible at low water. Apollodorus was +a man of genius, as his other work, the Trajan Column, +proudly standing in Rome, amply testifies. +No doubt he was richly rewarded by Trajan +for constructing a work which, flanked as it was +by noble fortifications, bound the newly-captured +Dacian colony to the Roman empire. What +mighty men were these Romans, who carved their +way along the Danube banks, hewing roads and +levelling mountains at the same time that they +engaged the savages of the locality in daily battle! +There were indeed giants in those days.</p> +<a name="p139" id="p139"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/004.jpg"><img src="images/004-600.jpg" width="600" height="299" alt="RUSTCHUK." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>RUSTCHUK.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +When Ada-Kalé is passed, and pretty +Orsova, lying in slumbrous quiet at the +foot of noble mountains, is reached, the +last trace of Turkish domination is left +behind. In future years, if the treaty +of San Stefano holds, there will be little +evidence of Ottoman lack of civilization +anywhere on the Danube, for the forts +of the Turks will gradually disappear, +and the Mussulman cannot for an instant +hold his own among Christians +where he has no military advantage.<a name="page140" id="page140"></a><span class="left">[page 140]</span> +But at Orsova, although the red fez and +voluminous trousers are rarely seen, the +influence of Turkey is keenly felt. It is +in these remote regions of Hungary that +the real rage against Russia and the +burning enthusiasm and sympathy for +the Turks is most openly expressed. +Every cottage in the neighborhood is +filled with crude pictures representing +events of the Hungarian revolution; and +the peasants, as they look upon those reminders +of perturbed times, reflect that +the Russians were instrumental in preventing +the accomplishment of their dearest +wishes. Here the Hungarian is eminently +patriotic: he endeavors as much +as possible to forget that he and his are +bound to the empire of Austria, and he +speaks of the German and the Slav who +are his fellow-subjects with a sneer. The +people whom one encounters in that corner +of Hungary profess a dense ignorance +of the German language, but if +pressed can speak it glibly enough. I +won an angry frown and an unpleasant +remark from an innkeeper because I did +not know that Austrian postage-stamps +are not good in Hungary. Such melancholy +ignorance of the simplest details +of existence seemed to my host meet +subject for reproach.</p> +<p> +Orsova became an important point as +soon as the Turks and Russians were at +war. The peasants of the Banat stared +as they saw long lines of travellers leaving +the steamers which had come from +Pesth and Bazros, and invading the two +small inns, which are usually more than +half empty. Englishmen, Russians, Austrian +officers sent down to keep careful +watch upon the land, French and Prussian, +Swiss and Belgian military attachés +and couriers, journalists, artists, amateur +army-followers, crowded the two long +streets and exhausted the market. Next +came a hungry and thirsty mob of refugees +from Widdin—Jews, Greeks and +gypsies—and these promenaded their +variegated misery on the river-banks +from sunrise until sunset. Then out from +Roumanian land poured thousands of +wretched peasants, bare-footed, bareheaded, +dying of starvation, fleeing from +Turkish invasion, which, happily, never +assumed large proportions. These poor +people slept on the ground, content with +the shelter of house-walls: they subsisted +on unripe fruits and that unfailing +fund of mild tobacco which every male +being in all those countries invariably +manages to secure. Walking abroad in +Orsova was no easy task, for one was +constantly compelled to step over these +poor fugitives, who packed themselves +into the sand at noonday, and managed +for a few hours before the cool evening +breezes came to forget their miseries. +The vast fleet of river-steamers belonging +to the Austrian company was laid +up at Orsova, and dozens of captains, +conversing in the liquid Slav or the +graceful Italian or guttural German, were +for ever seated about the doors of the little +cafés smoking long cigars and quaffing +beakers of the potent white wine produced +in Austrian vineyards.</p> +<p> +Opposite Orsova lie the Servian Mountains, +bold, majestic, inspiring. Their +noble forests and the deep ravines between +them are exquisite in color when +the sun flashes along their sides. A few +miles below the point where the Hungarian +and Roumanian territories meet +the mountainous region declines into +foot-hills, and then to an uninteresting +plain. The Orsovan dell is the culminating +point of all the beauty and +grandeur of the Danubian hills. From +one eminence richly laden with vineyards +I looked out on a fresh April +morning across a delicious valley filled +with pretty farms and white cottages +and ornamented by long rows of shapely +poplars. Turning to the right, I saw +Servia's barriers, shutting in from the +cold winds the fat lands of the interior; +vast hillsides dotted from point to point +with peaceful villages, in the midst of +which white churches with slender spires +arose; and to the left the irregular line +of the Roumanian peaks stood up, jagged +and broken, against the horizon. +Out from Orsova runs a rude highway +into the rocky and savage back-country. +The celebrated baths of Mehadia, the +"hot springs" of the Austro-Hungarian +empire, are yearly frequented by three +or four thousand sufferers, who come<a name="page141" id="page141"></a><span class="left">[page 141]</span> +from the European capitals to Temesvar, +and are thence trundled in diligences +to the water-cure. But the railway +is penetrating even this far-off land, +where once brigands delighted to wander, +and Temesvar and Bucharest will +be bound together by a daily "through-service" +as regular as that between Pesth +and Vienna.</p> +<a name="p141" id="p141"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/007.jpg"><img src="images/007-600.jpg" width="600" height="374" alt="SISTOVA." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>SISTOVA.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +I sat one evening on the balcony of<a name="page142" id="page142"></a><span class="left">[page 142]</span> +the diminutive inn known as "The Hungarian +Crown," watching the sunbeams +on the broad current of the Danube and +listening to the ripple, the plash and the +gurgle of the swollen stream as it rushed +impetuously against the banks. A group +of Servians, in canoes light and swift as +those of Indians, had made their way +across the river, and were struggling +vigorously to prevent the current from +carrying them below a favorable landing-place. +These tall, slender men, with +bronzed faces and gleaming eyes, with +their round skull-caps, their gaudy jackets +and ornamental leggings, bore no +small resemblance at a distance to certain +of our North American red-skins. +Each man had a long knife in his belt, +and from experience I can say that a +Servian knife is in itself a complete tool-chest. +With its one tough and keen +blade one may skin a sheep, file a saw, +split wood, mend a wagon, defend one's +self vigorously if need be, make a buttonhole +and eat one's breakfast. No +Servian who adheres to the ancient costume +would consider himself dressed unless +the crooked knife hung from his girdle. +Although the country-side along +the Danube is rough, and travellers are +said to need protection among the Servian +hills, I could not discover that the +inhabitants wore other weapons than +these useful articles of cutlery. Yet they +are daring smugglers, and sometimes +openly defy the Hungarian authorities +when discovered. "Ah!" said Master +Josef, the head-servant of the Hungarian +Crown, "many a good fight have I +seen in mid-stream, the boats grappled +together, knives flashing, and our fellows +drawing their pistols. All that, too, +for a few flasks of Negotin, which is a +musty red, thick wine that Heaven would +forbid me to recommend to your honorable +self and companions so long as I +put in the cellar the pearl dew of yonder +vineyards!" pointing to the vines of +Orsova.</p> +<p> +While the Servians were anxiously +endeavoring to land, and seemed to be +in imminent danger of upsetting, the roll +of thunder was heard and a few drops +of rain fell with heavy plash. Master +Josef forthwith began making shutters +fast and tying the curtains; "For now +we <i>shall</i> have a wind!" quoth he. And +it came. As by magic the Servian shore +was blotted out, and before me I could +see little save the river, which seemed +transformed into a roaring and foaming +ocean. The refugees, the gypsies, +the Jews, the Greeks, scampered in all +directions. Then tremendous echoes +awoke among the hills. Peal after peal +echoed and re-echoed, until it seemed +as if the cliffs must crack and crumble. +Sheets of rain were blown by the mischievous +winds now full upon the unhappy +fugitives, or now descended with +seemingly crushing force on the Servians +in their dancing canoes. Then +came vivid lightning, brilliant and instant +glances of electricity, disclosing +the forests and hills for a moment, then +seeming by their quick departure to render +the obscurity more painful than before. +The fiery darts were hurled by +dozens upon the devoted trees, and the +tall and graceful stems were bent like +reeds before the rushing of the blast. +Cold swept through the vale, and shadows +seemed to follow it. Such contrast +with the luminous, lovely semi-tropical +afternoon, in the dreamy restfulness of +which man and beast seemed settling +into lethargy, was crushing. It pained +and disturbed the spirit. Master Josef, +who never lost an occasion to cross himself +and to do a few turns on a little rosary +of amber beads, came and went in +a kind of dazed mood while the storm +was at its height. Just as a blow was +struck among the hills which seemed to +make the earth quiver to its centre, the +varlet approached and modestly inquired +if the "honorable society"—myself and +chance companions—would visit that +very afternoon the famous chapel in +which the crown of Hungary lies buried. +I glanced curiously at him, thinking that +possibly the thunder had addled his brain. +"Oh, the honorable society may walk in +sunshine all the way to the chapel at five +o'clock," he said with an encouraging +grin. "These Danube storms come and +go as quickly as a Tsigane from a hen-roost. +See! the thunder has stopped its<a name="page143" id="page143"></a><span class="left">[page 143]</span> +howling, and there is not a wink of lightning. Even +the raindrops are so few that one may almost walk +between them."</p> +<a name="p143" id="p143"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/010.jpg"><img src="images/010-600.jpg" width="600" height="255" alt="NICOPOLIS." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>NICOPOLIS.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +I returned to the balcony from which the storm +had driven me, and was gratified by the sight of the +mountain-side studded with pearls, which a +faint glow in the sky was gently touching. The +Danube roared and foamed with malicious glee as +the poor Servians were still whirled about on the water. +But presently, through the deep gorges and +along the sombre stream and over the vineyards, the +rocks and the roofs of humble cottages, stole a +warm breeze, followed by dazzling sunlight, which +returned in mad haste to atone for the displeasure of +the wind and rain. In a few moments the refugees were +again afield, spreading their drenched garments +on the wooden railings, and stalking +about in a condition narrowly approaching +nakedness. A gypsy four feet high,<a name="page144" id="page144"></a><span class="left">[page 144]</span> +clad in a linen shirt and trousers so wide +as to resemble petticoats, strolled thoughtlessly +on the bank singing a plaintive +melody, and now and then turning his +brown face skyward as if to salute the +sun. This child of mysterious ancestry, +this wanderer from the East, this robber +of roosts and cunning worker in metals, +possessed nor hat nor shoes: his naked +breast and his unprotected arms must +suffer cold at night, yet he seemed wonderfully +happy. The Jews and Greeks +gave him scornful glances, which he returned +with quizzical, provoking smiles. +At last he threw himself down on a plank +from which the generous sun was rapidly +drying the rain, and, coiling up as a dog +might have done, he was soon asleep.</p> +<p> +With a marine glass I could see distinctly +every movement on the Servian +shore. Close to the water's edge nestled +a small village of neat white cottages. +Around a little wharf hovered fifty or +sixty stout farmers, mounted on sturdy +ponies, watching the arrival of the Mercur, +the Servian steamer from Belgrade +and the Sava River. The Mercur came +puffing valiantly forward, as unconcerned +as if no whirlwind had swept across her +path, although she must have been in +the narrow and dangerous cañon of the +"Iron Gates" when the blast and the +shower were most furious. On the roads +leading down the mountain-sides I saw +long processions of squealing and grunting +swine, black, white and gray, all active +and self-willed, fighting each other +for the right of way. Before each procession +marched a swineherd playing on +a rustic pipe, the sounds from which primitive +instrument seemed to exercise Circean +enchantment upon the rude flocks. +It was inexpressibly comical to watch the +masses of swine after they had been enclosed +in the "folds"—huge tracts fenced +in and provided with shelters at the corners. +Each herd knew its master, and +as he passed to and fro would salute him +with a delighted squeal, which died away +into a series of disappointed and cynical +groans as soon as the porkers had discovered +that no evening repast was to be +offered them. Good fare do these Servian +swine find in the abundant provision +of acorns in the vast forests. The men +who spend their lives in restraining the +vagabond instincts of these vulgar animals +may perhaps be thought a collection +of brutal hinds; but, on the contrary, +they are fellows of shrewd common +sense and much dignity of feeling. +Kara-George, the terror of the Turk at +the beginning of this century, the majestic +character who won the admiration of +Europe, whose genius as a soldier was +praised by Napoleon the Great, and who +freed his countrymen from bondage,—Kara-George +was a swineherd in the +woods of the Schaumadia until the wind +of the spirit fanned his brow and called +him from his simple toil to immortalize +his homely name.</p> +<p> +Master Josef and his fellows in Orsova +did not hate the Servians with the +bitterness manifested toward the Roumanians, +yet they considered them as +aliens and as dangerous conspirators +against the public weal. "Who knows +at what moment they may go over to +the Russians?" was the constant cry. +And in process of time they went, but +although Master Josef had professed +the utmost willingness to take up arms +on such an occasion, it does not appear +that he did it, doubtless preferring, on +reflection, the quiet of his inn and his +flask of white wine in the courtyard rather +than an excursion among the trans-Danubian +hills and the chances of an +untoward fate at the point of a Servian +knife. It is not astonishing that the two +peoples do not understand each other, +although only a strip of water separates +their frontiers for a long stretch; for the +difference in language and in its written +form is a most effectual barrier to intercourse. +The Servians learn something of +the Hungarian dialects, since they come +to till the rich lands of the Banat in the +summer season. Bulgarians and Servians +by thousands find employment in +Hungary in summer, and return home +when autumn sets in. But the dreams +and ambitions of the two peoples have +nothing in common. Servia looks longingly +to Slavic unification, and is anxious +to secure for herself a predominance in +the new nation to be moulded out of<a name="page145" id="page145"></a><span class="left">[page 145]</span> +the old scattered elements: Hungary believes +that the consolidation of the Slavs +would place her in a dangerous +and humiliating position, and +conspires day and night to compass +exactly the reverse of Servian +wishes. Thus the two countries +are theoretically at peace +and practically at war. While +the conflict of 1877 was in progress +collisions between Servian +and Hungarian were of almost +daily occurrence.</p> +<p> +The Hungarian's intolerance +of the Slav does not proceed from +unworthy jealousy, but rather +from an exaggerated idea of the +importance of his own country, +and of the evils which might befall +it if the old Serb stock began +to renew its ancient glory. In +corners of Hungary, such as Orsova, +the peasant imagines that +his native land is the main world, +and that the rest of Europe is an unnecessary +and troublesome fringe +around the edges of it. There is a +story of a gentleman in Pesth who +went to a dealer in maps and inquired +for a <i>globus</i> of Hungary, +showing that he imagined it to be +the whole round earth.</p> +<a name="p145" id="p145"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/013.jpg"><img src="images/013-600.jpg" width="600" height="225" alt="THE DANUBE AT TRAJAN'S BRIDGE." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>THE DANUBE AT TRAJAN'S BRIDGE.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +So fair were the land and the +stream after the storm that I lingered +until sunset gazing out over +river and on Servian hills, and +did not accept Josef's invitation +to visit the chapel of the Hungarian +crown that evening. But +next morning, before the sun was +high, I wandered alone in the direction +of the Roumanian frontier, +and by accident came upon +the chapel. It is a modest structure +in a nook surrounded by tall +poplars, and within is a simple +chapel with Latin inscriptions. +Here the historic crown reposes, +now that there is no longer any +use for it at Presburg, the ancient +capital. Here it was brought by +pious hands after the troubles between +Austria and Hungary were settled. During +the revolution the sacred bauble was +hidden by the command of noblemen to +whom it had been confided, and the servitors +who concealed it at the behest of +their masters were slain, lest in an indiscreet +moment they might betray the secret.<a name="page146" id="page146"></a><span class="left">[page 146]</span> +For thousands of enthusiasts this +tiny chapel is the holiest of shrines, and +should trouble come anew upon Hungary +in the present perturbed times, the crown +would perhaps journey once more.</p> +<p> +It seems pitiful that the railway should +ever invade this out-of-the-way corner +of Europe. But it is already crawling +through the mountains: hundreds of +Italian laborers are putting down the +shining rails in woods and glens where +no sounds save the song of birds or the +carol of the infrequent passer-by have +heretofore been heard. For the present, +however, the old-fashioned, comfortless +diligence keeps the roads: the beribboned +postilion winds his merry horn, and +as the afternoon sun is getting low the +dusty, antique vehicle rattles up to the +court of the inn, the guard gets down, +dusts the leather casing of the gun which +now-a-days he is never compelled to use: +then he touches his square hat, ornamented +with a feather, to the maids and men +of the hostelry. When the mails are +claimed, the horses refreshed and the +stage is covered with its leathern hood, +postilion and guard sit down together in +a cool corner under the gallery in the +courtyard and crack various small flasks +of wine. They smoke their porcelain +pipes imported from Vienna with the +air of men of the world who have travelled +and who could tell you a thing or +two if they liked. They are never tired +of talking of Mehadia, which is one of +their principal stations. The sad-faced +nobleman, followed by the decorous old +man-servant in fantastic Magyar livery, +who arrived in the diligence, has been +to the baths. The master is vainly seeking +cure, comes every year, and always +supplies postilion and guard with the +money to buy flasks of wine. This the +postilion tells me and my fellows, and +suggests that the "honorable society" +should follow the worthy nobleman's example. +No sooner is it done than postilion +and guard kiss our hands; which +is likewise an evidence that they have +travelled, are well met with every stranger +and all customs, and know more than +they say.</p> +<p> +The Romans had extensive establishments +at Mehadia, which they called the +"Baths of Hercules," and it is in memory +of this that a statue of the good giant +stands in the square of the little town. +Scattered through the hills, many inscriptions +to Hercules, to Mercury and +to Venus have been found during the +ages. The villages on the road thither +are few and far between, and are inhabited +by peasants decidedly Dacian +in type. It is estimated that a million +and a half of Roumanians are settled +in Hungary, and in this section they are +exceedingly numerous. Men and women +wear showy costumes, quite barbaric and +uncomfortable. The women seem determined +to wear as few garments as possible, +and to compensate for lack of number +by brightness of coloring. In many +a pretty face traces of gypsy blood may +be seen. This vagabond taint gives an +inexpressible charm to a face for which +the Hungarian strain has already done +much. The coal-black hair and wild, +mutinous eyes set off to perfection the +pale face and exquisitely thin lips, the +delicate nostrils and beautifully moulded +chin. Angel or devil? queries the beholder. +Sometimes he is constrained to +think that the possessor of such a face +has the mingled souls of saint and siren. +The light undertone of melancholy +which pervades gypsy beauty, gypsy music, +gypsy manners, has an extremely +remarkable fascination for all who perceive +it. Even when it is almost buried +beneath ignorance and animal craft, it is +still to be found in the gypsy nature after +diligent search. This strange race +seems overshadowed by the sorrow of +some haunting memory. Each individual +belonging to the Tsiganes whom I +saw impressed me as a fugitive from +Fate. To look back was impossible; +of the present he was careless; the future +tempted him on. In their music +one now and then hears hints of a desire +to return to some far-off and half-forgotten +land. But this is rare.</p> +<p> +There are a large number of "civilized +gypsies," so called, in the neighborhood +of Orsova. I never saw one of +them without a profound compassion for +him, so utterly unhappy did he look in<a name="page147" id="page147"></a><span class="left">[page 147]</span> +ordinary attire. The musicians who came +nightly to play on the lawn in front of +the Hungarian Crown inn belonged to +these civilized Tsiganes. They had lost +all the freedom of gesture, the proud, +half-savage stateliness of those who remained +nomadic and untrammelled by local law +and custom. The old instinct was in their music, but +sometimes there drifted into it the same mixture of +saint and devil which I had seen +in the "composite" faces.</p> +<a name="p147" id="p147"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/016.jpg"><img src="images/016-600.jpg" width="600" height="300" alt="BOATS ON THE DANUBE." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>BOATS ON THE DANUBE.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +As soon as supper was set forth, piping hot and +flanked by flagons of beer and wine, on the lawn, and +the guests had assembled to partake of the good +cheer, while yet the afterglow lingered along the +Danube, these dusky musicians appeared and installed +themselves in a corner. The old stream's murmur +could not drown the piercing and pathetic +notes of the violin, the gentle wail of the guzla +or the soft thrumming of the rude tambourine. Little +poetry as a spectacled and frosty Austrian officer +might have in his soul, that little must have +been awakened by the songs and +the orchestral performances of the Tsiganes +as the sun sank low. The dusk +began to creep athwart the lawn, and a +cool breeze fanned the foreheads of the +listeners. When the light was all gone, +these men, as if inspired by the darkness,<a name="page148" id="page148"></a><span class="left">[page 148]</span> +sometimes improvised most angelic +melody. There was never any loud or +boisterous note, never any direct appeal +to the attention. I invariably forgot the +singers and players, and the music seemed +a part of the harmony of Nature. +While the pleasant notes echoed in the +twilight, troops of jaunty young Hungarian +soldiers, dressed in red hose, dark-green +doublets and small caps sometimes +adorned with feathers, sauntered up and +down the principal street; the refugees +huddled in corners and listened with delight; +the Austrian officials lumbered by, +pouring clouds of smoke from their long, +strong and inevitable cigars; and the +dogs forgot their perennial quarrel for +a few instants at a time.</p> +<p> +The dogs of Orsova and of all the +neighboring country have many of the +characteristics of their fellow-creatures in +Turkey. Orsova is divided into "beats," +which are thoroughly and carefully patrolled +night and day by bands of dogs +who recognize the limits of their domain +and severely resent intrusion. In front +of the Hungarian Crown a large dog, +aided by a small yellow cur and a black +spaniel mainly made up of ears and tail, +maintained order. The afternoon quiet +was generally disturbed about four o'clock +by the advent of a strange canine, who, +with that expression of extreme innocence +which always characterizes the +animal that knows he is doing wrong, +would venture on to the forbidden +ground. A low growl in chorus from +the three guardians was the inevitable +preliminary warning. The new-comer +usually seemed much surprised at this, +and gave an astonished glance: then, +wagging his tail merrily, as much as to +say, "Nonsense! I must have been mistaken," +he approached anew. One of +the trio of guardians thereupon sallied +forth to meet him, followed by the others +a little distance behind. If the strange +dog showed his teeth, assumed a defiant +attitude and seemed inclined to make +his way through any number of enemies, +the trio held a consultation, which, I am +bound to say, almost invariably resulted +in a fight. The intruder would either +fly yelping, or would work his way across +the interdicted territory by means of a +series of encounters, accompanied by +the most terrific barking, snapping and +shrieking, and by a very considerable effusion +of blood. The person who should +interfere to prevent a dog-fight in Orsova +would be regarded as a lunatic. Sometimes +a large white dog, accompanied by +two shaggy animals resembling wolves so +closely that it was almost impossible to +believe them guardians of flocks of sheep, +passed by the Hungarian Crown unchallenged, +but these were probably tried +warriors whose valor was so well known +that they were no longer questioned anywhere.</p> +<p> +The gypsies have in their wagons or +following in their train small black dogs +of temper unparalleled for ugliness. It +is impossible to approach a Tsigane tent +or wagon without encountering a swarm +of these diminutive creatures, whose rage +is not only amusing, but sometimes rather +appalling to contemplate. Driving +rapidly by a camp one morning in a +farmer's cart drawn by two stout horses +adorned with jingling bells, I was followed +by a pack of these dark-skinned +animals. The bells awoke such rage +within them that they seemed insane +under its influence. As they leaped and +snapped around me, I felt like some traveller +in a Russian forest pursued by hungry +wolves. A dog scarcely six inches +high, and but twice as long, would spring +from the ground as if a pound of dynamite +had exploded beneath him, and +would make a desperate effort to throw +himself into the wagon. Another, howling +in impotent anger, would jump full +at a horse's throat, would roll beneath +the feet of the team, but in some miraculous +fashion would escape unhurt, and +would scramble upon a bank to try again. +It was a real relief when the discouraged +pack fell away. Had I shot one of the +animals, the gypsies would have found +a way to avenge the death of their enterprising +though somewhat too zealous +camp-follower. Animals everywhere on +these border-lines of the Orient are treated +with much more tenderness than men +and women are. The grandee who would +scowl furiously in this wild region of the<a name="page149" id="page149"></a><span class="left">[page 149]</span> +Banat if the peasants did not stand by +the roadside and doff their hats in token +of respect and submission as he whirled +by in his carriage, would not kick a dog +out of his way, and would manifest the +utmost tenderness for his horses.</p> +<a name="p149" id="p149"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/019.jpg"><img src="images/019-600.jpg" width="600" height="375" alt="ORSOVA." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>ORSOVA.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +Much as the Hungarian inhabitants +of the Banat hate the Roumanians, they +do not fail to appreciate the commercial +advantages which will follow on the union<a name="page150" id="page150"></a><span class="left">[page 150]</span> +of the two countries by rail. Pretty Orsova +may in due time become a bustling +town filled with grain- and coal-dépôts +and with small manufactories. The railway +from Verciorova on the frontier runs +through the large towns Pitesti and Craiova +on its way to Bucharest. It is a marvellous +railroad: it climbs hills, descends +into deep gullies, and has as little of +the air-line about it as a great river +has, for the contractors built it on the +principle of "keeping near the surface," +and they much preferred climbing ten +high mountains to cutting one tunnel. +Craiova takes its name, according to a +somewhat misty legend, from John Assan, +who was one of the Romano-Bulgarian +kings, Craiova being a corruption +of <i>Crai Ivan</i> ("King John"). This John +was the same who drank his wine from a +cup made out of the skull of the unlucky +emperor Baldwin I. The old bans of +Craiova gave their title to the Roumanian +silver pieces now known as <i>bañi</i>. +Slatina, farther down the line, on the +river Altu (the <i>Aluta</i> of the ancients), is +a pretty town, where a proud and brave +community love to recite to the stranger +the valorous deeds of their ancestors. It +is the centre from which have spread out +most of the modern revolutionary movements +in Roumania. "Little Wallachia," +in which Slatina stands, is rich in well-tilled +fields and uplands covered with +fat cattle: it is as fertile as Kansas, and +its people seemed to me more agreeable +and energetic than those in and around +Bucharest.</p> +<p> +He who clings to the steamers plying +up and down the Danube sees much romantic +scenery and many curious types, +but he loses all the real charm of travel +in these regions. The future tourist on +his way to or from Bulgaria and the battle-fields +of the "new crusade" will be +wise if he journeys leisurely by farm-wagon—he +will not be likely to find a +carriage—along the Hungarian bank +of the stream. I made the journey in +April, when in that gentle southward +climate the wayside was already radiant +with flowers and the mellow sunshine +was unbroken by cloud or rain. There +were discomfort and dust, but there was +a rare pleasure in the arrival at a quaint +inn whose exterior front, boldly asserting +itself in the bolder row of house-fronts +in a long village street, was uninviting +enough, but the interior of which was +charming. In such a hostelry I always +found the wharfmaster, in green coat and +cap, asleep in an arm-chair, with the burgomaster +and one or two idle landed proprietors +sitting near him at a card-table, +enveloped in such a cloud of smoke that +one could scarcely see the long-necked +flasks of white wine which they were rapidly +emptying. The host was a massive +man with bulbous nose and sleepy eyes: +he responded to all questions with a stare +and the statement that he did not know, +and seemed anxious to leave everything +in doubt until the latest moment possible. +His daughter, who was brighter and less +dubious in her responses than her father, +was a slight girl with lustrous black eyes, +wistful lips, a perfect form, and black +hair covered with a linen cloth that the +dust might not come near its glossy +threads. When she made her appearance, +flashing out of a huge dark room +which was stone paved and arched overhead, +and in which peasants sat drinking +sour beer, she seemed like a ray of sunshine +in the middle of night. But there +was more dignity about her than is to be +found in most sunbeams: she was modest +and civil in answer, but understood +no compliments. There was something +of the princess-reduced-in-circumstances +in her demeanor. A royal supper could +she serve, and the linen which she spread +on the small wooden table in the back +courtyard smelled of lavender. I took +my dinners, after the long days' rides, in +inns which commanded delicious views +of the Danube—points where willows +overhung the rushing stream, or where +crags towered above it, or where it flowed +in smooth yet resistless might through +plains in which hundreds of peasants were +toiling, their red-and-white costumes contrasting +sharply with the brilliant blue of +the sky and the tender green of the foliage.</p> +<a name="page151" id="page151"></a><span class="left">[page 151]</span> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/023.jpg"><img src="images/023-600.jpg" width="600" height="196" alt="BELGRADE, FROM SEMLIN." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>BELGRADE, FROM SEMLIN.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +If the inns were uniformly cleanly +and agreeable, as much could not be +said for the villages, which were sometimes +decidedly dirty. The cottages of +the peasants—that is, of the agricultural +laborers—were windowless to a degree which led me to +look for a small- and dull-eyed race, but the eloquent orbs of +youths and maidens in all this Banat land are rarely equalled in +beauty. I found it in my heart to object to the omnipresent +swine. These cheerful animals were sometimes so domesticated +that they followed their masters and mistresses afield in the morning. +In this section of Hungary, as indeed in most parts of Europe, +the farm-houses are all huddled together in compact villages, +and the lands tilled by the dwellers in these communities extend +for miles around them. At dawn the procession of laborers goes +forth, and at sunset it returns. Nothing can give a better idea +of rural simplicity and peace than the return of the peasants of a +hamlet at eventide from their vineyards and meadows. Just as +the sun was deluging the broad Danube with glory before relinquishing +the current to the twilight's shades I came, in the soft +April evening, into the neighborhood of Drenkova. A tranquil +afterglow was here and there visible near the hills, which warded +off the sun's passionate farewell glances at the vines and flowers. +Beside the way, on the green banks, sat groups of children, +clad with paradisiacal simplicity, awaiting their fathers and mothers. +At a vineyard's hedge a sweet girl, tall, stately and melancholy, +was twining a garland in the cap of a stout young fellow +who rested one broad hand lightly upon her shoulder. Old +women, bent and wrinkled, hobbled out from the fields, getting +help from their sons or grandsons. Sometimes I met a shaggy white +horse drawing a cart in which a dozen sonsie lasses, their faces +browned by wind and their tresses<a name="page152" id="page152"></a><span class="left">[page 152]</span> +blown back from their brows in most bewitching +manner by the libertine breeze, +were jolting homeward, singing as they +went. The young men in their loose linen +garments, with their primitive hoes +and spades on their shoulders, were as +goodly specimens of manly strength and +beauty as one could wish to look upon. +It hurt me to see them stand humbly +ranged in rows as I passed. But it was +pleasant to note the fervor with which +they knelt around the cross rearing its +sainted form amid the waving grasses. +They knew nothing of the outer world, +save that from time to time the emperor +claimed certain of their number for his +service, and that perhaps their lot might +lead them to the great city of Buda-Pesth. +Everywhere as far as the eye could reach +the land was cultivated with greatest care, +and plenty seemed the lot of all. The +peasant lived in an ugly and windowless +house because his father and grandfather +had done so before him, not because it +was necessary. It was odd to see girls +tall as Dian, and as fair, bending their +pretty bodies to come out of the contemptible +little apertures in the peasant-houses +called "doors."</p> +<p> +Drenkova is a long street of low cottages, +with here and there a two-story +mansion to denote that the proprietors +of the land reside there. As I approached +the entrance to this street I saw a most +remarkable train coming to meet me. +One glance told me that it was a large +company of gypsies who had come up +from Roumania, and were going northward +in search of work or plunder. My +driver drew rein, and we allowed the +swart Bohemians to pass on—a courtesy +which was gracefully acknowledged with +a singularly sweet smile from the driver +of the first cart. There were about two +hundred men and women in this wagon-train, +and I verily believe that there were +twice as many children. Each cart, drawn +by a small Roumanian pony, contained +two or three families huddled together, +and seemingly lost in contemplation of +the beautiful sunset, for your real gypsy +is a keen admirer of Nature and her +charms. Some of the women were intensely +hideous: age had made them as +unattractive as in youth they had been +pretty; others were graceful and well-formed. +Many wore but a single garment. +The men were wilder than any +that I had ever before seen: their matted +hair, their thick lips and their dark +eyes gave them almost the appearance +of negroes. One or two of them had +been foraging, and bore sheeps' heads +and hares which they had purchased or +"taken" in the village. They halted as +soon as they had passed me, and prepared +to go into camp; so I waited a little +to observe them. During the process +of arranging the carts for the night one +of the women became enraged at the +father of her brood because he would +not aid her in the preparation of the +simple tent under which the family was +to repose. The woman ran to him, +clenching her fist and screaming forth +invective which, I am convinced, had I +understood it and had it been directed +at me, I should have found extremely +disagreeable. After thus lashing the culprit +with language for some time, she +broke forth into screams and danced +frantically around him. He arose, visibly +disturbed, and I fancied that his +savage nature would come uppermost, +and that he might be impelled to give +her a brutal beating. But he, on the +contrary, advanced leisurely toward her +and spat upon the ground with an expression +of extreme contempt. She seemed +to feel this much more than she would +have felt a blow, and her fury redoubled. +She likewise spat; he again repeated the +contemptuous act; and after both had +gratified the anger which was consuming +them, they walked off in different +directions. The battle was over, and I +was not sorry to notice a few minutes +later that <i>paterfamilias</i> had thought +better of his conduct, and was himself +spreading the tent and setting forth his +wandering Lares and Penates.</p> +<p> +A few hundred yards from the point +where these wanderers had settled for +the night I found some rude huts in +which other gypsies were residing permanently. +These huts were mere shelters +placed against steep banks or hedges, +and within there was no furniture save<a name="page153" id="page153"></a><span class="left">[page 153]</span> +one or two blankets, a camp-kettle and some wicker baskets. +Young girls twelve or thirteen years of age crouched naked +about a smouldering fire. They did not +seem unhappy or hungry; and none of these strange people paid +any attention to me as I drove on to the inn, which, +oddly enough, was at some distance from +the main village, hard by the Danube +side, in a gully between the mountains,<a name="page154" id="page154"></a><span class="left">[page 154]</span> +where coal-barges lay moored. The Servian +Mountains, covered from base to summit +with dense forests, cast a deep gloom +over the vale. In a garden on a terrace +behind the inn, by the light of a flickering +candle, I ate a frugal dinner, and went +to bed much impressed by the darkness, +in such striking contrast to the delightful +and picturesque scenes through which I +had wandered all day.</p> +<a name="p154" id="p154"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/026.jpg"><img src="images/026-600.jpg" width="599" height="373" alt="THE IRON GATES." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>THE IRON GATES.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +But I speedily forgot this next morning, +when the landlord informed me that, +instead of toiling over the road along the +crags to Orsova, whither I was returning, +I could embark on a tug-boat bound +for that cheerful spot, and could thus inspect +the grand scenery of the Iron Gates +from the river. The swift express-boats +which in time of peace run from Vienna +to Rustchuk whisk the traveller so rapidly +through these famous defiles that +he sees little else than a panorama of +high rocky walls. But the slow-moving +and clumsy tug, with its train of barges +attached, offers better facilities to the +lover of natural beauty. We had dropped +down only a short distance below +Drenkova before we found the river-path +filled with eddies, miniature whirlpools, +denoting the vicinity of the gorges +into which the great current is compressed. +These whirlpools all have names: +one is called the "Buffalo;" a second, +Kerdaps; a third is known as the "Devourer." +The Turks have a healthy awe +of this passage, which in old times was +a terrible trial to these stupid and always +inefficient navigators. For three or four +hours we ran in the shade of mighty +walls of porphyry and granite, on whose +tops were forests of oaks and elms. High +up on cliffs around which the eagles circle, +and low in glens where one sometimes +sees a bear swimming, the sun +threw a flood of mellow glory. I could +fancy that the veins of red porphyry running +along the face of the granite were +blood-stains, the tragic memorials of +ancient battles. For, wild and inaccessible +as this region seems, it has been +fought over and through in sternest fashion. +Perched on a little promontory on +the Servian side is the tiny town of Poretch, +where the brave shepherds and +swineherds fought the Turk, against +whose oppression they had risen, until +they were overwhelmed by numbers, +and their leader, Hadji Nikolos, lost his +head. The Austrians point out with pride +the cave on the tremendous flank of +Mount Choukourou where, two centuries +ago, an Austrian general at the +head of seven hundred men, all that was +left to him of a goodly army, sustained a +three months' siege against large Turkish +forces. This cave is perched high +above the road at a point where it absolutely +commands it, and the government +of to-day, realizing its importance, has +had it fortified and furnished with walls +pierced by loopholes. Trajan fought his +way through these defiles in the very infancy +of the Christian era; and in memory +of his first splendid campaign against +the Dacians he carved in the solid rock +the letters, some of which are still visible, +and which, by their very grandiloquence, +offer a mournful commentary on +the fleeting nature of human greatness. +Little did he think when his eyes rested +lovingly on this inscription, beginning—</p> + +<p class="center" style="font-size: 1.1em"> + IMP. CÆS. D. NERVÆ FILIUS NERVA.<br /> + TRAJANUS. GERM. PONT. MAXIMUS.</p> + +<p> +—that Time with profane hand would +wipe out the memory of many of his +glories and would undo all the work +that he had done.</p> +<p> +On we drifted, through huge landlocked +lakes, out of which there seemed no +issue until we chanced upon a miraculous +corner where there was an outlet +frowned upon by angry rocks; on to the +"Caldron," as the Turks called the most +imposing portion of the gorge; on through +an amphitheatre where densely-wooded +mountains on either side were reflected +in smooth water; on beneath masses +that appeared about to topple, and over +shallows where it looked as if we must +be grounded; on round a bluff which +had hidden the sudden opening of the +valley into a broad sweep, and which +had hindered us from seeing Orsova +the Fair nestling closely to her beloved +mountains.</p> +<p class="author"> +<span class="sc">Edward King.</span></p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<a name="page155" id="page155"></a><span class="left">[page 155]</span> + + +<h2>THE PARIS EXPOSITION OF 1878.</h2> + +<h4>I.—BUILDINGS AND GROUNDS.</h4> +<a name="p155" id="p155"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/029.jpg"><img src="images/029-550.jpg" width="550" height="459" alt="THE TROCADÉRO AND GROUNDS." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>THE TROCADÉRO AND GROUNDS.</b> +</p><br /><br /> + +<p> +It is customary to speak of things by +comparison, and the question is constantly +propounded here, as it will be to +returned Americans: "How does the Exposition +compare with the Centennial of +1876?" This is not to be answered by +vague generalities nor by sweeping statements.</p> +<p> +It must of course be true that a great +nation could not fail to make interesting +an object upon which it has lavished +money and which has obtained the co-operation +of the principal foreign nations. +So much is true equally of Philadelphia +and Paris, and the merits of each are +such that comparisons may be instituted +which shall be derogatory to neither.</p> +<p> +The scale of each is immense, and the +buildings of both well filled and overflowing +into numerous annexes. Fairmount +had the advantage of breadth of +ground for all comers. The Champ de +Mars is but little over one hundred acres +in area, while the portion of Fairmount +Park conceded to the Exposition was two +hundred and sixty acres.</p> +<p> +The Champ de Mars is simply crowded +with buildings, and is hemmed in by +houses except at the end where it abuts +upon the Seine. The space between the +river and the main building is the only +breathing-ground on that side of the river, +the only place large enough for a band +to play in the open air with allowance for +a moderate crowd of listeners; and even +this portion has a far larger number of<a name="page156" id="page156"></a><span class="left">[page 156]</span> +detached houses than elegance or convenience +of view would dictate. It was otherwise +in Philadelphia, where the ample +room gave a sensation of freedom, and +the wide lawns, and even rustic hollows, +permitted rambles, picnic lunches and +parties. Herein consists one of the most +striking features of dissimilarity between +the Philadelphia and Paris expositions. +The former had plenty of room—the latter +has insufficient. The former, with the +exception of the Main and Machinery +Buildings, with a few adjuncts, and the +Art-Gallery, a little retired from the Main +Building, had its structures dotted over a +wide expanse bordering its lakes or along +an encircling drive. For want of any other +sufficient opportunity to display the architecture +of the countries assembled, one +of the interior façades of the Paris building +has a series of characteristic house-fronts +looking upon an allée of but fifty +feet in width, which is dignified by the +title of "The Street of Nations."</p> +<p> +This tight packing has, however, one +compensation: it has permitted a degree +of finish to the grounds far superior to +what was possible at Philadelphia. All +the space inside the enclosure is admirably +laid out in walks and parterres, and +the two open places between the principal +buildings and the Seine display a +truly beautiful and picturesque garden, +with winding walks, ponds, fountains, +artificial mounds with clumps of trees +and evergreens, grottos, statues, trickling +rivulets with ferns and mosses, cozy +dells with little cascades, and the walks +in the more open spots bordered with +charming flowers and plants of rich leafage. +The lawns are something marvellous +in the speed with which they have +been created. Thousands of tons, as it +seems, of rich mould have been deposited +and levelled or laid upon the swelling +tumuli which border the more open +space, and the grass grows with denseness +and vigor under the stimulating +treatment of phosphates, its greenness +mocking the emerald, and forming a +most vivid setting for the darker leaves +of the tree-rhododendrons, whose globular +masses of bloom look like balls of +fire.</p> +<p> +After all, it is only justice to mention +two things at Philadelphia which render +it memorable among exhibitions, and +which, I observe in conversation with +foreigners who visited it and are here +now, made a great and lasting impression. +I do not mean that it had but two, +but these are so frequently referred to +that it is fair to cite them specially, even +at the risk of a little repetition as to the +first—namely, the wide area and beautiful +situation, with the views of hill and river; +the means of approach by carriage-drives +through the lovely Park, those so disposed +being able to drive for miles along the +water-side, in the groves and to various +commanding points of view on their way +to such of the remoter entrances as they +might elect; the railway, which enabled +one not only to see the grounds without +fatigue, but while resting from the pedestrian +work of the interiors of the buildings; +the sense of comfort in being able +to retire for a while to sylvan or floral retreats +to digest the thoughts and rest from +seeing. Secondly, the various and ample +accommodations offered to the public—the +postal and telegraph facilities; the +Department of Public Comfort; the lavatories +and retiring-rooms so abundantly +furnished. A Moresque gentleman in +turban who was in Philadelphia fairly +rubbed his hands as he referred to the +lavish opportunities for washing which +were freely given in Philadelphia, and +contrasted them with the state of things +here, where it costs ten cents to wash +your hands, and the supply of water is +but meagre at that. But he is an African, +you know, and had learned to appreciate +water, and plenty of it, in a land where +the washing of the face, hands and feet +is among the first civilities offered to a +stranger.</p> +<p> +A few figures, dry enough in themselves +if there were nothing more, will +serve as a means of comparison of the +relative spaces under cover. The building +on the Champ de Mars is stated officially +to be 650 mètres long by 350 +mètres broad, which, reduced to our +measurement, will give 2,447,536 square +feet. Deducting 150,000 feet for two enclosed +alleys, the area under roof will be<a name="page157" id="page157"></a><span class="left">[page 157]</span> +2,297,536 feet. The area of the five principal +buildings at the Centennial Exhibition +was:</p> + +<table width="40%" align="center" summary="The area of the five principal buildings...."> +<tr> + <td class="main"> </td> + <td class="mainrt">Square feet.</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main">Main Building</td> + <td class="mainrt">872,320</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main">Machinery Hall</td> + <td class="mainrt">504,720</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main">Art-Gallery</td> + <td class="mainrt">76,650</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main">Agricultural Hall</td> + <td class="mainrt">442,800</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main">Horticultural Hall</td> + <td class="mainrt">73,919<br /> + _________</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main"> </td> + <td class="mainrt">1,970,409</td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> +So that the difference in favor of Paris +is 327,127 feet. In round numbers, the +Paris Exposition building is one-fifth +larger than the united areas of the five +principal buildings at the Centennial. +Without making a close calculation of +the areas of the annexes and detached +buildings either of Philadelphia or Paris, +I am disposed to think that the 1876 Exhibition +was not in excess of the present +one in this respect. Either exceeds, both +in the main buildings and the swarm of +detached structures, any preceding exhibitions. +The difference between the Paris +exhibitions of 1867 and 1878 is as 153 is +to 240: the London building of 1862 would +bear to both the proportion of 92, without +any important annexes.</p> +<p> +The high ground on the right bank of +the Seine is occupied by the Trocadéro +Palace, which faces that on the Champ +de Mars, each building being about five +hundred yards from the bank of the river, +which flows in so deep a depression +that it is visible from neither building, +and the grounds between the two appear +to be continuous, though the bridge suggests +the contrary.</p> +<p> +The cascade in front of the Trocadéro +occupies the site of the old steps by which +the steep hill was ascended, but the ground +nearer to the Seine has been so raised +that the river-roads on each side run in +subways spanned by bridges, thus permitting +free use of the great thoroughfares +without impeding communication +between the two portions of the Exposition. +Indeed, they appear as one viewed +in either direction, notwithstanding the +intervening streets and wide and rapid +river.</p> +<p> +The change in the shape of the Trocadéro +hill to bring it into a symmetrical +position in front of the Champ de Mars +has required the quarrying of twenty-four +thousand cubic mètres of rock, leaving +a rough scarp on the northern edge +quarried into steps, walks and grottos, +with flowers, ferns and mosses cunningly +planted on the ledge and creepers on +the walls.</p> +<p> +The Trocadéro Palace is the most +striking architectural feature of the Exposition. +Standing on a level one hundred +and six feet above the Quai de +Billy and overlooking the city of Paris, +the dome and glittering minarets of the +building are visible from many miles' +distance. It is not easy to describe its +architecture, though it is called "half +Moorish, half Renaissance;" which is +not very definite. It has a large rotunda +capable of accommodating seven +thousand persons, and the river-front +has two spacious corridors on as many +stories. The central building is flanked +by two tall square campaniles, and from +its sides extend long wings which curve +toward the river: these have colonnades +and terraces in front overlooking the garden, +its picturesque and grotesque cottages +and pavilions, its fountains and its +parterres of gay flowers.</p> +<p> +The Trocadéro has been purchased by +the town council of Paris, and is to be a +permanent structure, its flanking salons, +forty-two feet wide, being known as +"Galéries de l'Art Rétrospective." Its +collection is to form a history of civilization, +and will probably include the +Egyptian, Assyrian and similar collections +from the Louvre, as well as the +Ethnological, which is at St. Germain. +It is designed to represent in chronological +order ancient and historic art, both +liberal and mechanical, with the furniture, +arms and tools of the Middle Ages +and Renaissance, arms, implements and +fabrics from the East, Africa and Oceanica, +and a collection of musical instruments +of all ages and countries. This +is an ambitious programme, but will no +doubt be well accomplished. Its general +color is that of the beautiful stone +of this region, a delicate cream. The +uniformity is broken by great boldness +and variety in the structural form of the<a name="page158" id="page158"></a><span class="left">[page 158]</span> +building, and by its pillars, deep colonnades +and heavy cornices, giving shadows +which prevent monotony of tint.</p> +<p> +While artists and architects disagree +like the proverbial doctors, and purists +shudder at the jumble of orders, periods +and nationalities, a tyro may well hesitate. +An opinion of the building will +no more suit everybody than does the +building itself; but one cannot entirely +forfeit one's reputation for taste, for each +will find some agreeing judgments. All +must acknowledge that it has a gala air. +Its central dome, tall minarets and wings +widespread toward the river crown the +height and seem to foster the beauties +they partly enclose.</p> +<p> +The circular corridor of the rotunda is +surmounted by the Muses and other figures +typical of the future purposes of the +building. The rotunda-walls are themselves +castellated, the towers being interplaced +with windows of Saracenic arched +form. The béton pavement of the corridors +and balcony is made of annular +fragments, facets upward, of black, red, +white and slate-colored marbles, feldspar +and other stones. It is as hard as +natural rock and as smooth as half-polished +marble. A tessellated fret pattern +is made along the borders of the corridor +floor, consisting of triple rows of smooth +cubes of marble inserted in the cement. +The square balusters are of red-mottled +marble, with base and entablature of dull +rose. The square corner pillars support +figures allegorizing the six divisions of +the earth.</p> +<p> +The vestibules at the sides of the tower +are open east and west for the passage +to and from the garden, and at the sides +have doors which admit to the Grande +Salle and the flanking galleries respectively. +The interior red scagliola columns +of the vestibule are in pairs, with +white bases and capitals, the latter combining +the lotus-leaf with the volute. +The soffits of the ceiling have panels of +yellow with orange border, contrasting +with iron beams painted a chocolate +brown.</p> +<p> +The uniformity of the long and curved +colonnades which form the wings of the +building is broken by square porticoes, +which have entrances to the galleries +and small terraces in front, with steps +leading to the garden. The wall back +of the white pillars of this long promenade +is painted of a warm but not glaring +red. The roof is of tile and skylight. +The base of the colonnade beneath the +balustrade and pillars is a rough concrete +wall hidden by a sloping bank of +evergreens, upon which the eye rests +pleasantly amid so much wall-space +and architectural decoration.</p> +<p> +In front of the corridor of the rotunda +is a projecting balcony, with six gigantic +female figures on the corners of its balustrade +representing Europe, Asia, North +and South America, Africa and Australia. +These statues are of metal gilt, and +typify by countenance and accompanying +emblems the portions of the globe +they represent. Europe is an armed figure +with sword: at her side are the caduceus, +olive-branch, books and easel. +Asia has a spear and a couch with elephant +heads. Africa is a negress, with +the characteristic grass-rope basket containing +dates. North America is an Indian, +but the civilization of the land is +indicated by an anchor, beehive and cog-wheel. +Australia is a gin, with a waddy, +boomerang and kangaroo. South America +sits on a cotton-bale, has a condor by +her side, and at her feet are tropical fruits—pineapples, +bananas and brazil-nuts.</p> +<p> +The balustrade of the balcony is of a +light marble with faint red mottling, and +in front of it is a boiling pool of water at +the level of the hand-rail. A large volume +of water overflows the curved edge +of this pool and falls twenty feet into a +basin beneath, the first of a series of nine +whose overflows in successive steps form +the cascade technically known as a "château +d'eau," the finest of which description +of ornamental waterworks is at the +Château St. Cloud, one of the mementos +of the fatal luxury which precipitated the +Revolution of 1789. The cascade of St. +Cloud plays once a month for half an hour—that +at the Exposition during the whole +day. From one jet at St. Cloud issue +five thousand gallons per minute: the +supply at the Exposition is twenty-four +thousand cubic feet per hour. Most of +this water runs over the edge of the balcony-pool, +and the fall of fifty-six cubic +feet per second a distance of twenty feet +creates no mean roar and mist in the +archway beneath the balcony, where +visitors walk behind the falls and look +through the sheet of water. It is not +fair to compare at all points the cascades +of the Exposition and St. Cloud. +The amount of water may probably not +be greatly different, but the fantastic profusion +of spiratory objects and long succession +of overflow basins and urns in +the works at the château has no parallel +in those of the Trocadéro. The cascades +of St. Cloud are disappointing: the object +should be to add to landscape effect +by water in motion, and the principle is +entirely missed when the water is made a +mere accessory to a series of stone steps, +jars and monsters. Steps are made to +walk upon, jars to hold water. An interminable +series of either with water +poured over them is not the work of a +genius. If the first suggestion to the +mind be that a thing is a stairway, the +fact that it is made too wet to walk upon +does not constitute it a beautiful cascade. +A row of jars on pedestals around a grass-plat +has a pretty effect, because they do +or may hold flowers, but to set several +rows of them on a hillside and turn on +the water is not art. As an admirable +illustration of fantasy well wrought +out the Fountain of Latona at Versailles +may be cited. There Latona, having +appealed to Jupiter against the inhabitants +of Argos, who had deprived her of +water, is deluged by jets from the unfortunates, +who appear in various degrees +of transformation into frogs.</p> + +<a name="page159" id="page159"></a><span class="left">[page 159]</span> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/036.jpg"><img src="images/036-550.jpg" width="550" height="458" alt="THE ENGLISH QUARTER, ON INTERNATIONAL AVENUE." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>THE ENGLISH QUARTER, ON INTERNATIONAL AVENUE.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +The cascade of the Trocadéro has +nothing meretricious about it. It is, like +the building of which it is the finest ornament, +of Jura marble, while much of +the adjacent work is of artificial stone +so admirably made that one cannot tell +the difference, and is disposed to give<a name="page160" id="page160"></a><span class="left">[page 160]</span> +the preference to the latter as evincing +greater ingenuity than the mere patient +chiselling of the quarry-stone. The +pools are symmetrical, in conformity to +the style of their surroundings, their +overflows curved, the successive falls +being about two feet after the first dash +nine hundred and twenty feet from the +balcony level. Each side of the cascade +is flanked by six small pools in +which are spouting and spray jets. The +course ends in a pool which may be described +as square, with circular bays on +three of its sides. In this are one large +jet and two smaller ones, which are +themselves beautiful and keep the surface +in a pleasant ripple. The corner +pillars are crowned by colossal gilt figures +of animals, supposed to represent +what we were used to call the "four +quarters of the earth"—Europe, Asia, +Africa and America, as the books had +it before America had attained any +prominence in public estimation. These +are typified by a horse, an elephant, a +rhinoceros and a bull, the latter probably +a tribute to our bison, but not much +like him. These face the four winds, so +to speak, and do indeed more nearly, +as they are set obliquely, than do the +grounds and buildings, the length of +which runs north-west and south-east. +Each animal has his back to the pool, +and with one exception is in a rampant +attitude.</p> +<p> +Many thousands of cubic mètres of +stone were quarried away to afford a site +for the cascade, for the system of water-pipes +which supply the various pools and +jets and conduct off the surplus. The +size of the site occupied by these hydraulic +works is 360 by 75 feet.</p> +<p> +The balcony of the Trocadéro facing +toward the river and the Champ de Mars +affords the most extensive view obtainable +in the grounds. Beneath is the cascade +with its basins and fountains, and +spreading away on each side is the garden +with its various national buildings, +neat, gaudy or grotesque. Spanning the +invisible roads and river is the broad +Pont d'Iéna, and then comes a repetition +of the garden, the sward dotted with +parterres and buildings. A broad terrace, +crowned with the splendid façade +of the main building, does not quite terminate +the view, for from the height of +the lower corridor of the rotunda the +buildings of Paris are seen to stretch +away in the distance. The hill of Montmartre +on the north and the heights of +Chatillon and Clamart on the south terminate +the view in those directions.</p> +<p> +The cascade immediately beneath us +has been already described, but how +shall we give an impression of the appearance +of the buildings collected in +groups on each side of the main avenue? +So great is the variety of objects +to be presented that any very large unbroken +surface of sward is impossible. +The general plan is geometrical, and +the absence of large trees on the newly-made +ground has prevented any attempt +at woodland scenery.</p> +<p> +The French make great use of common +flowers in obtaining effects of color. +Some square beds of large size have +centres of purple and white stocks, giving +a mottled appearance, with a border +of the tender blue forget-me-nots and a +fringe of double daisies. Other beds are +full of purple, red and white anemones, +multicolored poppies or yellow marigolds. +The sober mignonette is too great a favorite +to be excluded, though it lends little +to the effect. The gorgeous rhododendron +is here massed in large beds, and +there forms a standard tree with a formal +clump of foliage and gay flowers, +contrasting with the bright green of the +succulent grass. The roses are by thousands +in beds and lining the walks, and +here are especially to be seen the standard +roses for which Europe is so famous, +but which do not seem to prosper with us.</p> +<p> +Besides the flowers and flowering +shrubs, a most profuse use is made of +evergreens, which are removed of surprising +size and forwardness of spring +growth. We can form little conception +from our gardens at home of the wealth, +variety and exuberance of the evergreen +foliage in Southern England and Northern +France—the Spanish and Portuguese +laurel, laurustinus, arbutus, occuba, bay, +hollies in variety, tree-box, with scores +of species of pines, firs, arborvitæ and +yews, relieved by the contorted foliage<a name="page162" id="page162"></a><span class="left">[page 162]</span> +of the auraucarias, the sombre cedar of +Lebanon and the graceful deodar cedar +of the Himalayas. As already remarked, +the tree-growth is small, as the ground +was a blank and rocky hillside two years +ago, and was quarried to make a site for +the garden. The tree which seems best +to bear moving, and is consequently used +in the emergency, is the horse-chestnut, +the red and white flowering varieties being +intermingled. This is perhaps the +most common tree in the streets of Paris, +though the plane and maple are also favorites.</p> + +<a name="page161" id="page161"></a><span class="left">[page 161]</span> + + +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/039.jpg"><img src="images/039-600.jpg" width="600" height="350" alt="BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF THE MAIN BUILDING AND ITS SURROUNDINGS." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF THE MAIN BUILDING AND ITS SURROUNDINGS.</b> +</p><br /><br /> +<p> +Against the rocky scarp on the south +of the garden a plantation of aloes, yuccas +and cactus has been made. These +are in great variety, and some of them +in flower. It was especially pleasant to +see the independence which the gardener +has shown in placing a fine clump of +rhubarb in one place where he wanted a +green bunch. Some persons would have +been afraid of injurious criticism in the +use of so common a plant, but we all +know what a vigorous, healthy green it +is, and as such not to be despised by the +artist in color. There are a few specialties +in the way of gardening which are +worth notice: one is the array of tulips +planted by the city of Haarlem, and representing +the municipal coat-of-arms in +tulips of every imaginable color of which +the plant is capable, and around the figures +the words "Haarlem, Holland," in +scarlet tulips on a ground of white ones.</p> +<p> +Another novelty is the Japanese garden +with its bamboo fence, the posts and +door of entrance being carved with remarkable +taste and boldness. The double +gates are surmounted by a cock and +hen in natural attitudes, which is a relief +from the absurdities of their impossible +storks and hideous griffins. Perhaps +it shows that modern and European +ideas are at work there. The flag +of Japan, by the way—a red circle on a +white ground—is a sensible design, and +can be seen at a distance: it contrasts +favorably with the dragon on a yellow +ground of the Chinese pavilion. The Japanese +garden has several large standard +umbrellas for permanent shade, and little +bamboo-fenced yards for the game +chickens and the ducks. Two shrines +are in the garden, and a fountain with a +feeble jet issuing from a stump and falling +into a little fanciful pond with small +bays and promontories. On the miniature +deep a walnut-shell ship might ride, +and on the shoals near the bank aquatic +plants are beginning to sprout, and their +leaves will soon touch the opposite shore +if they are not attended to.</p> +<p> +Rather a disparagement, as a matter +of taste, to the somewhat formal grace +but undoubted beauty of this floral scene +are the buildings which are placed here +and there over the surface. However, it +is these that we have come to see, for if +we were in search of landscape or Dutch +gardening we should find it better elsewhere. +This gardening is only a setting, a +frame, in which the various nations have +set up their cottages and villas. The +ground surface between the houses has +been laid off ornamentally to please the +eye and satisfy the sense of order and +beauty, but is not itself the object of +which we are in search. It is impossible +perhaps to harmonize such an incongruous +set of buildings, adapted for different +climates, habits, tastes and needs. +Here on the left is a large white castellated +house of Algiers. It has blank +walls and loopholed towers, and no suggestion +of a tree or flower, but gives an +idea of the land where the sand of the +desert comes up to the doorstep and beggars +and thieves go on horseback. On +the opposite extremity, at the right, is a +Chinese house with its peculiar curved +roof, suggested originally, doubtless, by +the Tartar tent, but having more curves +and points than were ever shown by canvas +or felt. In a district by themselves +the readers of the Koran—or a set of +people passing for such—have their +Persian, Tunisian, Morocco and Turkish +kiosques, and the inhabitants seem +perhaps one shade cleaner than they did +in Philadelphia. They are supposed, at +least, to be the same, and have an exactly +similar lot of rubbish and brass jewelry +for sale, and oil of cassia, which they +sell for the attar of the "gardens of Gul +in their bloom." Next is a campanile of<a name="page163" id="page163"></a><span class="left">[page 163]</span> +Sweden, and near it are the Swedish and +Norwegian houses, armed against winter. +Then the Japanese cottage with sides all +open, mats on the floors and no furniture +to speak of. Then comes a Moorish pavilion +of Spain with nondescript ornaments, +the bulbous domes and pinnacles +supporting the flags of yellow and red—of +barbaric taste, color and significance.</p> +<p> +We have yet to notice the Italian villa, +the Oriental mosque, the Swiss chalet +and the log hut; also the modern +pavilion with zinc roof, the thatched +houses of Britain and of Normandy, the +Elizabethan cottage and the English +farm-house. What they lack in size +they make up in variety, may be said +of the greenhouses and conservatories +dotted about the place. In and outside +of them the marvellous skill and patience +of the gardener is seen in the rigidly-formal +or abnormally-directed limbs of the +fruit trees. The fish-ponds and fountains +are neither numerous nor large, but the +aquarium may merit more extended description +when completed.</p> +<p> +Standing, sensible-looking and tasteful, +in the midst of much that is trumpery, +but good enough for a summer fête, and +placed here not as exhibits of good taste, +but of what their owners think good, +rises the wooden building with skylight +roof of "The Administration of Forests +and Waters." It is on a beautiful knoll, +and has a wooden frame with tongued +and grooved panels, the whole varnished +to show the natural grain of the timber. +On the panels outside are arranged the +tools and implements of arboriculture +and forestry.</p> +<p> +The flags of the different nations displayed +upon these buildings give animation +to the scene, and the glance +might pass at once from this panorama +to the other side of the Seine, where the +scene is repeated, but for the intervention +of long barnlike sheds with tile +roofs which intrude themselves along +the banks of the river, and quench the +poetry of the fanciful and picturesque as +the eye passes from the immediate foreground +and seeks the magnificent façade +of the Salle d'Iéna, the river front of the +main building occupying the Champ de +Mars. The flags of all nations are flying +from the numerous minor pinnacles, +while the six domes on the ends and centres +of the east and west façades display +the tricolor of France.</p> +<p> +The best view of the exterior is obtained +from the Trocadéro. The building +itself is so large that some distance +is necessary to take in the whole at a +glance. The approach to it by way of +the Pont d'Iéna has been marred by +raising the bridge to too great a height, +so that the impression in crossing the +Seine is that the building stands upon +low ground. Standing upon the east +end of the bridge, one cannot see the +base on the other side of the river, which +suggests descent and dwarfs the building. +The bridge retains its colossal statuary, +each of the four groups consisting +of an unmounted man and a horse. They +respectively represent a Greek, Roman, +Gaul and Arab. The bridge was erected +to commemorate the victory over the +Prussians in 1806, and Blücher, who had +his head-quarters at St. Cloud in 1815, +threatened to blow it up. After crossing +the bridge we find ourselves reaching +the work-a-day world. On the left +are represented the foundries and workshops +of Creuzot, Chaumont and Serrenorri. +Near by is a model of the observatory +of Mount Jouvis and an annex of +the state tobacco-factory of France.</p> +<p> +The building on the Champ de Mars +is 2132 feet by 1148. A wide and lofty +vestibule runs across the full extent of +each end, and these afford the most +imposing interior views of the building. +They are known respectively as the Galérie +d'Iéna and Galérie de l'École Militaire, +from their vicinity to the bridge and +school respectively. Being lofty themselves, +and having central and flanking +domed towers which break the uniformity, +their fronts form the principal façades +of the building, of which, architecturally +speaking, they are the principal entrances; +but in fact, as happens with +buildings of such acreage, the actual +inlets depend upon the predominance +in numbers of the people on one or another +side of the building, the means of +approach by land and water, and the<a name="page164" id="page164"></a><span class="left">[page 164]</span> +contiguous streets of favorite and convenient +travel. In the present case the +bulk of the people reach the grounds +either by water at the south-east corner +or by land at the intersection of Avenue +Rapp with the Avenue Bourdonnaye, +which latter bounds the Champ de +Mars on its southern side.</p> +<p> +The end-vestibules are connected by +five longitudinal galleries on each side +of the open area in the middle of the +building. The five galleries on the +southern side belong to France, and the +five on the northern side are divided by +transverse partitions among the foreign +nations present, in very greatly differing +quantities. England, for instance, occupies +nearly two-sevenths of the whole +space devoted to foreign exhibitors, being +more than the sum of the amounts +allotted to Spain, China, Japan, Italy, +Sweden, Norway and the United States. +The end-vestibules have curved roofs +with highly ornamented ceilings of a +succession of flat domes along the centres, +with three rows of deep soffits on +each side, gayly painted. The walls are +nearly all glass in iron frames, and the +panes of white glass alternate in checkerwork +with those having blue tracery +upon them. The whole building is +principally of iron and glass, the roof +of wood, with zinc plates and numerous +skylights over the interior galleries. The +machinery galleries of each side are much +the largest of the longitudinal ones, and +have high roofs with side windows above +the levels of the roofs on each side of +them; but the four other galleries on +each side of the building have quite +low ceilings, which make one fear for +the quality of the ventilation when the +heat is at its greatest.</p> +<p> +In the interior of the quadrangular +building is an open space about two +hundred feet broad and nearly two thousand +feet long, reaching from one vestibule +to the other; and in this space are +two rows of fine-art pavilions and a building +for the exhibition of the municipal +works of the city. This isolated building +is in the central portion of the whole +structure, the fine-art pavilions being arranged +in line with it, four in a group, the +salons of a group connected by lobbies +and also with the large end-vestibules at +the end upon which they abut.</p> +<p> +The French and foreign sides of the +Exposition building on the Champ de +Mars have frontages upon the interior +court, and the façades of the foreign +sections are made ornamental and are +intended to be characteristic of the +countries. There is a great discrepancy +in the space assigned to each: that of +Great Britain is the longest, amounting +to five hundred and forty feet in length, +while the little territories of Luxembourg, +Andorra, Monaco and San Marino, which +are clubbed together, have unitedly about +twenty-five feet of frontage. In some +cases the space assigned to a nation does +not run back the full four hundred feet +to the outside of the building, but it is intended +that each shall have some part of +the façade in this allée. Much taste and +more expense have been lavished upon +the architectural construction and embellishment +of the façades, and the row reminds +one of the scenes in a theatre, +where palace, cottage, mosque and jail +stand side by side, giving a particolored +effect as various as the different emotions +which the respective buildings might be +supposed to elicit. The English space being +so large, no single design was adopted, +as it could have but a monotonous +effect, but the frontage was divided into +five portions, each of which illustrates +some style of villa or cottage architecture, +and is separated from the adjoining +one by garden-beds. The first, counting +from the Salle de la Seine, is of the style +of Queen Anne's reign. It is built of +a patented imitation of red brickwork. +Thin slabs of Portland cement concrete +are faced with smaller slabs of red concrete +of the size of bricks and screwed to +the wooden frame of the building. The +house has tall casements in a bay with +a balcony, and an entablature on top of +the wall. The second house is the pavilion +of the prince of Wales, and is of +the Elizabethan style. It is built of rubble-work +faced with colored plaster in imitation +of red brickwork and Bath-stone +dressings. The front has niches for statuary, +and above the windows are shield-shaped <a name="page165" id="page165"></a><span class="left">[page 165]</span> +panels for armorial bearings. The +windows are in square clusters, with small +lights in hexagonal leaden cames. The +union jack flies from the staff. The third +house is constructed of red brick and terra-cotta, +and is not specially characteristic +of any period. It is, in fact, a jumble +of the early Gothic with a Moorish entablature +and a balustrade parapet. The +stained-glass casement windows are surmounted +with circular lights in the arches. +The fourth house is built of pitch-pine +framework, enriched with carving and +filled in with plaster panels—a style of +construction known as "half-timbered +work," much employed in England from +the fifteenth to the seventeenth century. +This house is placed at the disposal of +the Canadian commissioners. It has a +large square two-story bay-window, with +the customary small glass panes in cames +of lozenge and other patterns, and is perhaps +the neatest and most cozy house in +the row. The fifth is of the construction +of an English country-house in the reign +of William III. It is of timber, with stucco +and rough-cast panels, and has a large +bay-window in the second story, surmounted +by a gable to the street and +covering an old-fashioned stoop with +seats on each side. The five houses +have a pretty effect, and each has a +home look. The façades only are on +exhibition, the interiors being private. +They contrast with others in the "street" +in the same way as the habits of the different +peoples. Some build their houses +to retire into, and others to exhibit themselves. +Each nation being asked for the +façade of a house, the Italian has built a +portico where he can lounge, see and be +seen; the Englishman has in all serenity +represented what he deems comfort, and +shuts the front door.</p> +<a name="p165" id="p165"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/046.jpg"><img src="images/046-550.jpg" width="550" height="459" alt="VIEW IN THE PARK OF THE TROCADÉRO, SHOWING THE PAVILIONS OF PERSIA AND SIAM." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>VIEW IN THE PARK OF THE TROCADÉRO, SHOWING THE PAVILIONS OF PERSIA AND SIAM.</b> +</p><br /><br /> + +<p> +The next in order is the United States +house, which is plain and commodious; +the latch-string would be out, but that the +front door is everlastingly open. The<a name="page166" id="page166"></a><span class="left">[page 166]</span> +style is perhaps to advertise to the world +that we have not yet had time to invent +an order of architecture or devise anything +adapted to our climate, which has +extremes utterly unknown to our ancestors +in Britain. The building is light and +airy, has office-rooms on each floor, and +is described by one English paper as "a +sort of school-building which combines +elegance with usefulness." Another paper +states that "it exemplifies the utilitarian +notions of our Transatlantic cousins +rather than any artistic intent." These +comments are as favorable as anything +we ourselves can say: we accept the verdict +with thanks and think we have got +off pretty well. In the squareness of its +general lines, with arched windows on +the second floor and square tower over +the centre, perhaps the architect thought +it was Italian. Sixteen coats-of-arms on +the outside excite admiration.</p> +<p> +The building of Norway and Sweden +is a charming cottage of handsome and +ample proportions. It has three sections: +one of two stories with low-pitched roof, +and gable to the street, a middle structure +with colonnade, and one of three +stories with high-pitched roof. The windows +are round-topped, made in an ingenious +way, the upper member being +an arched piece with sloping ends, to +match the springing on the tops of the +posts which divide the openings. The +horizontal and vertical bands are enriched +by carving.</p> +<p> +The façade of Italy may be pronounced +pretentious and disappointing. It is constructed +of various kinds of unpolished +marble and terra-cotta panels. A tall +archway is flanked by two wings having +each two smaller arches, the entablatures +of which are enriched, if we must so term +it, with gaudy mosaic figures, portraits +and heraldic bearings, while the spans +of the arches surmount pyramidal groups +of emblems, scientific, medical, lyrical +and so forth. Red curtains with heavy +gilt cords and tassels behind the arches +throw the columns with composition (not +Composite) capitals and the emblems into +high relief. Beneath the centre arch is +the armorial bearing of the country. The +vestibules display statuary.</p> +<p> +Japan has a quaint little house with a +very massive gateway of solid timber, +flanked by two characteristic fountains +of terra-cotta. These represent stumps +of trees, with gigantic lily-cups, leaves of +water-lilies, and frogs in grotesque attitudes +in and around the water.</p> +<p> +China has a grotesque house, painted +in imitation of octagonal slate-colored +bricks, covered with a pagoda-roof full +of curves and points. The red door has +rows of large knobs and is surmounted +by colored and gilded carvings, representing +genii probably. The pointed flag +has in a yellow field a blue dragon in the +later stages of consumption.</p> +<p> +Spain has a Moorish building rich in +gold and color—a central portion with +Italian roof, and two colonnade side-sections +flanked by castellated towers. Five +forms of arches span the doors and windows, +and the artist has contrived to associate +all forms of ornament, running +from an approach to the Greek fret +down through the Arabesque to the +Brussels carpet.</p> +<p> +Austro-Hungary has a long colonnade +of white stone ornamented with black filigree-work +and supported by columns in +pairs. The entablature is surmounted by +a row of statues, and the end-towers have +parapets with balustrade. The colonnade, +with a chocolate-brown back wall, affords +shelter and relief for bronze and marble +statuary. At each end of this façade is +a tall flagstaff striped like a barber's pole, +and so familiar to all who have visited +the Austrian stations, at Trieste, for example. +From it flies the flag of horizontal +stripes of red, white and green, with +the shield of many quarterings and two +angelic supporters.</p> +<p> +Russia has a log-and-frame house of +somewhat more than average picturesque +character. The projecting centres and +wing-towers, the outside staircase, and +roofs conical, flat, pyramidal, bulbous and +Oriental, give it a miscellaneous toyshop +appearance, characteristic perhaps of the +mosaic character of the nation. Barge-boards +and brackets of various cheap +patterns are plentifully strewed over the +building.</p> +<p> +Passing from the Russian to the Swiss<a name="page167" id="page167"></a><span class="left">[page 167]</span> +building suggests inevitably Mr. Mantalini's +description of his former <i>chères +amies</i>: "The two countesses had no +outline at all, and the dowager's was a +demmed outline." A semicircular archway, +over which is a high-flying arch +with a roof of six slopes surmounted by +a bell-tower and pinnacle roof; on the +pillars two lions supporting a red shield +with white Greek cross in the field; two +wings with flat arches containing gorgeous +stained-glass windows. But what +avails description? There are twenty-two +armorial bearings on the spandrils +of the arches, beating the United States +by six; but we had only room for the +original thirteen, the United States and +two more. Oh that they had granted +us more space! High up aloft is the +motto <i>Un pour tous, tons pour un</i>, which +was adopted by the French Commune.</p> +<p> +Belgium is pre-eminent in the whole +row, if expense determines. This country +has about three times as much space +in the building as the United States, +and has worthily filled it. The Belgian +façade on the "Street of Nations" is reputed +to have cost nearly as much as the +whole appropriation made by Congress +for the United States exhibit. It is of +dark red brick with gray stone quoins +and corners and blue and gray marble +pillars. The centre building is joined +by two colonnades to a flanking tower +at one end and an ornate gable at the +other. The style is one familiar in the +times when the great William of Orange +was alive, and was to some extent introduced +into England soon after another +William took the place of his bigoted +father-in-law. It cannot be denied that +the general effect is gray, sombre and uncomfortable—that +it is too much crowded +with objects, and, though of admirable +and enduring materials, suggests a spasmodic +attempt to assimilate itself to the +gala character of the occasion which called +it forth. It is the saturnine one of the +row. It is said that the pieces are numbered +for re-erection in some other place.</p> +<p> +Greece has an Athenian house painfully +crude in color, white picked out with all +the hues of the rainbow and some others, +suggesting muddy coffee and chibouques.</p> +<p> +Denmark has about twenty feet of +front, utilized by a gable-end of brick +with facings of imitation stone.</p> +<p> +The Central American States have +about sixty feet of yellow front, with +three arched openings into the vestibule, +which is flanked by a tower and +a gable.</p> +<p> +Anam, Persia, Siam, Morocco and +Tunis have unitedly a gingerbread affair +of four distinct patterns—we cannot +call them styles. Siam in the centre +has a chocolate-colored tower picked out +with silver, and surmounted by a triple pagoda +roof, whence floats the flag, a white +elephant in a red field. The six feet of +homeliness belonging to Tunis has a balcony +of wood which neither reveals nor +hides the almond-eyed whose supposed +relatives are selling trumpery in booths +on the other side of the Seine.</p> +<p> +Luxembourg, Andorra, Monaco and +San Marino unite in a façade representing +the different styles of architecture +which prevail in the several +states: 1. A portion faintly suggesting +the ancient palace of Luxembourg, to-day +the residence of Prince Henry of +Holland; 2. An entrance erected by the +principality of Monaco as the model of +that of the royal palace; 3. A window +contributed by San Marino, and showing +that the prevalent type in the little +republic is more useful than ornamental; +4. A balustrade surmounting the façade, +supplied by the republic of Andorra.</p> +<p> +Portugal has an imitation in cream-colored +plaster of a Gothic church-entrance, +and a highly-enriched arch with +flanking towers, whose canopied niches +have figures of warriors and wise men.</p> +<p> +Holland shows an architecture of two +hundred years ago, the counterpart of +the houses we see in the old Dutch pictures. +It is of dark red brick with stone +courses, and a tall slate roof behind its +balustered parapet.</p> +<p> +We are at the end of the Street of Nations, +somewhat under a third of a mile +in length.</p> +<p> +It is evening, and the sun in this latitude—for +we are farther north than Quebec—seems +in no hurry to reach the horizon. +Two hours ago the whistle sounded <a name="page168" id="page168"></a><span class="left">[page 168]</span> +"No more steam," and the life of the +building went out. The attendants, tired +of the show and <i>blasés</i> or "used up," according +to their nationality, with exhibitions, +have shrouded their cases in sack-cloth +and gone to sip ordinaire, absinthe +or bitter ale. I sit on a terrace of the +Champ de Mars, the gorgeous building at +my back, and look riverward. Before me +stretches away the green carpet of sward +one hundred feet wide and six hundred +long, a broad level band of emerald reaching +to the gravel approach to the Pont +d'Iéna, each side of which is guarded by +a colossal figure of a man leading a horse. +The gravel around the <i>tapis vert</i> is black +with the figures of those whom the fineness +of the evening has induced to take +a parting stroll in the ground before retiring.</p> +<p> +Flanking the gravel-walks the ground +is more uneven, and Art, in imitation of +the wilder aspects of Nature, has done +what the limited space permitted to enhance +the allied beauties of land and +water, where</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Each gives each a double charm,</p> +<p>Like pearls upon an Ethiop's arm.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p> +On the left is a rockery and waterfall on +no mean scale, with a romantic little lake +in front. On the right a rocky island in +a corresponding lake is crowned with a +thatched pavilion, the reflection of which +shines broken in the water ruffled by +the evening breeze. Groups of detached +buildings hem in the view on each side, +and their flags wave with the sky for a +background. Paris is invisible: at this +point the grounds are isolated from outside +view.</p> +<p> +Rising clear beyond the bridge, the +approach to it on the other side hidden +by the lowness of the point of view, +stands the palace of the Trocadéro, a +broad sweep of green covering the hill, +along whose summit are the widespread +wings of the colonnade, uniting at the +central rotunda, of which the domed +roof and square campaniles rise one +hundred feet above all and dominate +the middle of the picture. The traces +of the indefatigable swarms of workmen +are obliterated, except in the magical +and finished work. The spray of the +fountains of the château d'eau drifts to +leeward and hides at times patches of +the velvety grass on the hill. The central +jet plays sturdily, and from where I +sit appears to reach the level of the second +corridor of the rotunda.</p> +<p> +The eye fails to detect a single object, +excepting the four statues on the bridge, +which is not the creation of a few months. +The hill beyond has been torn to pieces +and sloped, and the palace built upon it. +Every house in sight is new. The very +ground in front on which I look down +has been raised, and the terrace on which +I sit has been built. The ponds have been +excavated, the mimic rocky hills have +been piled up, and the water led to the +brink of the tiny precipice from the artesian +wells which supply this part of +Paris.</p> +<p> +The hum of many voices and the dash +of waters make a deep undertone, and +one comes away with the feeling—not exactly +that the scene is too good to last, +but—of regret that the result of such lavish +care should be ephemeral. In a few +months all on the left side of the river +may again be parade-ground, and the +thirty thousand troops which can be +readily manœuvred upon it be getting +ready for another conflict, while the palace +which the Genius of the Lamp had +builded, as in a night, shall be a thing +of the past, as if whirled away by the +malevolent magician.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Edward H. Knight.</span></p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page169" id="page169"></a><span class="left">[page 169]</span> + + +<h2>SENIORITY.</h2> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Child! Such thou seemest to me that am more old</p> + <p class="i4">In sorrow than in years,</p> +<p>With that long pain that turns us bitter cold,</p> + <p class="i4">Far worse than these hot tears</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Of thine, that fall so fast upon my breast.</p> + <p class="i4">I know they ease thy grief:</p> +<p>I know they comfort, and will bring thee rest,</p> + <p class="i4">Thou poor wind-shaken leaf!</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>Ah yes, thy storm will pass, thy skies will clear.</p> + <p class="i4">Thou smilest beneath my kiss:</p> +<p>Lift up the blue eyes cleansed by weeping, dear,</p> + <p class="i4">Of every thought amiss.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>What seest thou, child, in these dry eyes of mine?</p> + <p class="i4">Grief that hath spent its tears—</p> +<p>Grief that its right to weeping must resign,</p> + <p class="i4">Not told by days, but years.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>The bitterest is that weeping of the heart</p> + <p class="i4">That mounts not to the eyes:</p> +<p>In its lone chamber we sit down apart,</p> + <p class="i4">And no one hears our cries.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>It comes to this with every deep, true soul:</p> + <p class="i4">'Tis neither kill nor cure,</p> +<p>But a strong sorrow held in strong control,</p> + <p class="i4">A girding to endure.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>For no such soul lives in this tangled world</p> + <p class="i4">But, like Achilles' heel,</p> +<p>Hath in the quick a shaft too truly hurled—</p> + <p class="i4">Flesh growing round the steel.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And with its outcome would come all Life's flood:</p> + <p class="i4">Joy is so twined with pain,</p> +<p>Sweetness and tears so blended in our blood,</p> + <p class="i4">They will not part again.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>For at the last the heart grows round its grief,</p> + <p class="i4">And holds it without strife:</p> +<p>So used we are, we cry not for relief,</p> + <p class="i4">For we know all of life.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>And this is why I kiss thy tear-wet eyes,</p> + <p class="i4">Nor think thy grief so great.</p> +<p>Thou untried child! at every fresh surprise</p> + <p class="i4">Thy heart springs to the gate.</p></div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i24"><span class="sc">Howard Glyndon.</span></p> +</div> +</div> +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page170" id="page170"></a><span class="left">[page 170]</span> + + +<h2>"FOR PERCIVAL."</h2><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER XXXV.</h3> + +<h4>OF THE LANDLADY'S DAUGHTER.</h4> + +<div class="figright"> +<a href="images/illus-054-800.jpg"><img src="images/illus-054-340.jpg" width="340" height="465" alt="BERTIE LISLE." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +</div> + +<p> +Early in that December the landlady's +daughter came home. Percival +could not fix the precise date, but +he knew it was early in the month, because +about the eighth or ninth he was +suddenly aware that he had more than +once encountered a smile, a long curl +and a pair of turquoise earrings on the +stairs. He had noticed the earrings: +he could speak positively as to them. +He had seen turquoises before, and taken +little heed of them, but possibly his +friends had happened to buy rather small +ones. He felt pretty certain about the +long curl. And he thought there was a +smile, but he was not so absolutely sure +of the smile.</p> +<p> +By the twelfth he was quite sure of it. +It seemed to him that it was cold work +for any one to be so continually on the +stairs in December. The owner of the +smile had said, "Good-morning, Mr. +Thorne."</p> +<p> +On the thirteenth a question suggested +itself to him: "Was she—could she be—always running up and down stairs? Or +did it happen that just when he went out +and came back—?" He balanced his +pen in his fingers for a minute, and sat +pondering. "Oh, confound it!" he said +to himself, and went on writing.</p> +<p> +That evening he left the office to the +minute, and hurried to Bellevue street. +He got halfway up the stairs and met no +one, but he heard a voice on the landing +exclaim, "Go to old Fordham's caddy, +then, for you sha'n't—Oh, good gracious!" +and there was a hurried rustle. +He went more slowly the rest of the way, +reflecting. Fordham was another lodger—elderly, as the voice had said. Percival +went to his sitting-room and looked +thoughtfully into his tea-caddy. It was +nearly half full, and he calculated that, +according to the ordinary rate of consumption, +it should have been empty, +and yet he had not been more sparing +than usual. His landlady had told him +where to get his tea: she said she found +it cheap—it was a fine-flavored tea, and +she always drank it. Percival supposed +so, and wondered where old Fordham +got his tea, and whether that was fine-flavored +too.</p> +<p> +There was a giggle outside the door, +a knock, and in answer to Percival's +"Come in," the landlady's daughter appeared. +She explained that Emma had +gone out shopping—Emma was the grimy +girl who ordinarily waited on him—so, +with a nervous little laugh, with a toss +of the long curl, which was supposed to +have got in the way somehow, and with +the turquoise earrings quivering in the +candlelight, she brought in the tray. She +conveyed by her manner that it was a +new and amusing experience in her life, +but that the burden was almost more than +her strength could support, and that she +required assistance. Percival, who had +stood up when she came in and thanked +her gravely from his position on the +hearthrug, came forward and swept some +books and papers out of the way to make<a name="page171" id="page171"></a><span class="left">[page 171]</span> +room for her load. In so doing their +hands touched—his white and beautifully +shaped, hers clumsy and coarsely +colored. (It was not poor Lydia's fault. +She had written to more than one of +those amiable editors who devote a column +or two in family magazines to settling +questions of etiquette, giving recipes +for pomades and puddings, and telling +you how you may take stains out of +silk, get rid of freckles or know whether +a young man means anything by his attentions. +There had been a little paragraph +beginning, "L.'s hands are not as +white as she could wish, and she asks us +what she is to do. We can only recommend," +etc. Poor L. had tried every +recommendation in faith and in vain, +and was in a fair way to learn the hopelessness +of her quest.)</p> +<p> +The touch thrilled her with pleasure +and Thorne with repugnance. He drew +back, while she busied herself in arranging +his cup, saucer and plate. She dropped +the spoon on the tray, scolded herself +for her own stupidity, looked up at +him with a hurried apology, and laughed. +If she did not blush, she conveyed +by her manner a sort of idea of blushing, +and went out of the room with a final +giggle, being confused by his opening the +door for her.</p> +<p> +Percival breathed again, relieved from +an oppression, and wondered what on +earth had made her take an interest in +his tea and him. Yet the reason was +not far to seek. It was that tragic, melancholy, +hero's face of his—he felt so +little like a hero that it was hard for him +to realize that he looked like one—his +sombre eyes, which might have been +those of an exile thinking of his home, +the air of proud and rather old-fashioned +courtesy which he had inherited from +his grandfather the rector and developed +for himself. Every girl is ready to find +something of the prince in one who treats +her with deference as if she were a princess. +Percival had an unconscious grace +of bearing and attitude, and the considerable +advantage of well-made clothes. +Poverty had not yet reduced him to cheap +coats and advertised trousers. And perhaps +the crowning fascination in poor +Lydia's eyes was the slight, dark, silky +moustache which emphasized without +hiding his lips.</p> +<p> +Another rustling outside, a giggle and +a whisper—Percival would have sworn +that the whisper was Emma's if it had +been possible that she could have left it +behind her when she went out shopping—an +ejaculation, "Gracious! I've blacked +my hand!" a pause, presumably for +the purpose of removing the stain, and +Lydia reappeared with the kettle. She +poured a portion of its contents over the +fender in her anxiety to plant it firmly +on the fire. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed, +"how stupid of me! Oh, Mr. Thorne"—this +half archly, half pensively, fingering +the curl and surveying the steaming +pool—"I'm afraid you'll wish Emma +hadn't gone out: such a mess as I've +made of it! What will you think of +me?"</p> +<p> +"Pray, don't trouble yourself," said +Percival. "The fender can't signify, except +perhaps from Emma's point of view. +It doesn't interfere with my comfort, I assure +you."</p> +<p> +She departed, only half convinced. +Percival, with another sigh of relief, proceeded +to make the tea. The water was +boiling and the fire good. Emma was +apt to set a chilly kettle on a glimmering +spark, but Lydia treated him better. +The bit of cold meat on the table looked +bigger than he expected, the butter +wore a cheerful sprig of green. Percival +saw his advantages, but he thought +them dearly bought, especially as he had +to take a turn up and down Bellevue street +while the table was cleared.</p> +<p> +After that day it was astonishing how +often Emma went out shopping or was +busy, or had a bad finger or a bad foot, +or was helping ma with something or +other, or hadn't made herself tidy, so +that Lydia had to wait on Mr. Thorne. +But it was always with the same air of its +being something very droll and amusing +to do, and there were always some artless +mistakes which required giggling +apologies. Nor could he doubt that he +was in her thoughts during his absence. +She had a piano down stairs on which +she accompanied herself as she sang,<a name="page172" id="page172"></a><span class="left">[page 172]</span> +but she found time for domestic cares. +His buttons were carefully sewn on and +his fire was always bright. One evening +his table was adorned with a bright blue +vase—as blue as Lydia's earrings—filled +with dried grasses and paper flowers. +He gazed blankly at it in unspeakable +horror, and then paced up and down the +room, wondering how he should endure +life with it continually before his eyes. +Some books lay on a side-table, and as +he passed he looked absently at them +and halted. On his Shelley, slightly +askew, as if to preclude all thought of +care and design, lay a little volume +bound in dingy white and gold. Percival +did not touch it, but he stooped +and read the title, <i>The Language of +Flowers</i>, and saw that—purely by accident +of course—a leaf was doubled down +as if to mark a place. He straightened +himself again, and his proud lip curled +in disgust as he glanced from the tawdry +flowers to the tawdry book. And from +below came suddenly the jingling notes +of Lydia's piano and Lydia's voice—not +exactly harsh and only occasionally out +of tune, but with something hopelessly +vulgar in its intonation—singing her favorite +song—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>Oh, if I had some one to love me,</p> + <p class="i2">My troubles and trials to share!</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> +Percival turned his back on the blue +vase and the little book, and flinging +himself into a chair before the fire sickened +at the thought of the life he was +doomed to lead. Lydia, who was just +mounting with a little uncertainty to a +high note, was a good girl in her way, +and good-looking, and had a kind sympathy +for him in his evident loneliness. +But was she to be the highest type of +womanhood that he would meet henceforth? +And was Bellevue street to be +his world? He glided into a mournful +dream of Brackenhill, which would never +be his, and of Sissy, who had loved +him so well, yet failed to love him altogether—Sissy, +who had begged for her +freedom with such tender pain in her +voice while she pierced him so cruelly +with her frightened eyes. Percival looked +very stern in his sadness as he sat +brooding over his fire, while from the +room below came a triumphant burst +of song—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>But I will marry my own love,</p> + <p class="i2">For true of heart am I.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> +Sometimes he would picture to himself +the future which lay before Horace's +three-months-old child, whose little life +already played so all—important a part +in his own destiny. He had questioned +Hammond about him, and Hammond +had replied that he heard that Lottie and +the boy were both doing well. "They +say that the child is a regular Blake, just +like Lottie herself," said Godfrey, "and +doesn't look like a Thorne at all." Percival +thought, not unkindly, of Lottie's +boy, of Lottie's great clear eyes in an +innocent baby face, and imagined him +growing up slim and tall, to range the +woods of Brackenhill in future years +as Lottie herself had wandered in the +copses about Fordborough. And yet +sometimes he could not but think of the +change that it might make if little James +William Thorne were to die. Horace +was very ill, they said: Brackenhill was +shut up, and they had all gone to winter +abroad. The doctors had declared +that there was not a chance for him in +England.</p> +<p> +At this time Percival kept a sort of +rough diary. Here is a leaf from it: +"I am much troubled by a certain little +devil who comes as soon as I am safely +in bed and sits on my pillow. He flattens +it abominably, or else I do it myself +tossing about in my impatience. +He is quite still for a minute or two, +and I try my best to think he isn't there +at all. Then he stoops down and whispers +in my ear 'Convulsions!' and starts +up again like india-rubber. I won't listen. +I recall some tune or other: it +won't come, and there is a hitch, a horrible +blank, in the midst of which he is +down again—I knew he would be—suggesting +'Croup.' I repeat some bit of a +poem, but it won't do: what is the next +line? I think of old days with my father, +when I knew nothing of Brackenhill: I +try to remember my mother's face. I am +getting on very well, but all at once I become +conscious that he has been for some +time murmuring, as to himself, 'Whooping-cough <a name="page173" id="page173"></a><span class="left">[page 173]</span> +and scarlet fever—scarlet fever.' +I grow fierce, and say, 'I pray God +he may escape them all!' To which he +softly replies, 'His grandfather died—his +father is dying—of decline.'</p> +<p> +"I roll over to the other side, and encounter +him or his twin brother there. +A perfectly silent little devil this time, +with a faculty for calling up pictures. +He shows me the office: I see it, I smell +it, with its flaring gaslights and sickly atmosphere. +Then he shows me the long +drawing-room at Brackenhill, the quaint +old furniture, the pictures on the walls, +the terrace with its balustrade and balls +of mossy stone, and through the windows +come odors of jasmine and roses +and far-off fields, while inside there is the +sweetness of dried blossoms and spices in +the great china jars. A moment more +and it is Bellevue street, with its rows +of hideous whited houses. And then +again it is a river, curving swiftly and +grandly between its castled rocks, or a +bridge of many arches in the twilight, +and the lights coming out one by one +in the old walled town, and the road +and river travelling one knows not +where, into regions just falling asleep +in the quiet dusk. Or there is a holiday +crowd, a moonlit ferry, steep wooded +hills, and songs and laughter which +echo in the streets and float across the +tide. Or the Alps, keenly cut against +the infinite depth of blue, with a whiteness +and a far-off glory no tongue can +utter. Or a solemn cathedral, or a busy +town piled up, with church and castle +high aloft and a still, transparent lake +below. But through it all, and underlying +it all, is Bellevue street, with the +dirty men and women, who scream and +shout at each other and wrangle in its +filthy courts and alleys. Still, God knows +that I don't repent, and that I wish my +little cousin well."</p> + + <hr class="shorter" /> + + + +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h3> + +<h4>WANTED—AN ORGANIST.</h4> + +<p> +In later days Percival looked back to +that Christmas as his worst and darkest +time. His pride had grown morbid, and +he swore to himself that he would never +give in—that Horace should never know +him otherwise than self-sufficient, should +never think that but for Mrs. Middleton's +or Godfrey Hammond's charity he +might have had his cousin as a pensioner. +Brooding on thoughts such as these, +he sauntered moodily beneath the lamps +when the new year was but two days old.</p> +<p> +His progress was stopped by a little +crowd collected on the pavement. There +was a concert, and a string of carriages +stretched halfway down the street. Just +as Percival came up, a girl in white and +amber, with flowers in her hair, flitted +hurriedly across the path and up the +steps, and stood glancing back while a +fair-haired, faultlessly-dressed young +man helped her mother to alight. The +father came last, sleek, stout and important. +The old people went on in +front, and the girl followed with her +cavalier, looking up at him and making +some bright little speech as they +vanished into the building. Percival +stood and gazed for a moment, then +turned round and hurried out of the +crowd. The grace and freshness and +happy beauty of the girl had roused a +fierce longing in his heart. He wanted +to touch a lady's hand again, to hear +the delicate accents of a lady's voice. +He remembered how he used to dress +himself as that fair-haired young man +was dressed, and escort Aunt Harriet +and Sissy to Fordborough entertainments, +where the best places were always +kept for the Brackenhill party. It +was dull enough sometimes, yet how he +longed for one such evening now—to +hand the cups once again at afternoon +tea, to talk just a little with some girl on +the old terms of equality! The longing +was not the less real, and even passionate, +that it seemed to Thorne himself to +be utterly absurd. He mocked at himself +as he walked the streets for a couple +of hours, and then went back when the +concert was just over and the people +coming away. He watched till the girl +appeared. She looked a little tired, he +fancied. As she came out into the chill +night air she drew a soft white cloak +round her, and went by, quite unconscious <a name="page174" id="page174"></a><span class="left">[page 174]</span> +of the dark young man who stood +near the door and followed her with his +eyes. The sombre apparition might have +startled her had she noticed it, though +Percival was only gazing at the ghost of +his dead life, and, having seen it, disappeared +into the shadows once more.</p> +<p> +"The night is darkest before the morn." +In Percival's case this was true, for the +next day brought a new interest and hope. +A letter came from Godfrey Hammond, +through which he glanced wearily till he +came to a paragraph about the Lisles: +Hammond had seen a good deal of them +lately. "Their father treated you shamefully," +he wrote, "but, after all, it is harder +still on his children." ("Good Heavens! +Does he suppose I have a grudge +against them?" said Percival to himself, +and laughed with mingled irritation and +amazement.) "Young Lisle wants a situation +as organist somewhere where he +might give lessons and make an income +so, but we can't hear of anything suitable. +People say the boy is a musical genius, +and will do wonders, but, for my part, I +doubt it. He may, however, and in that +case there will be a line in his biography +to the effect that I 'was one of the first +to discern,' etc., which may be gratifying +to me in my second childhood."</p> +<p> +Percival laid the letter on the table +and looked up with kindling eyes.</p> +<p> +Only a few minutes' walk from Bellevue +street was St. Sylvester's, a large +district church. The building was a distinguished +example of cheap ecclesiastical +work, with stripes and other pretty +patterns in different colored bricks, and +varnished deal fittings and patent corrugated +roofing. All that could be done +to stimulate devotion by means of texts +painted in red and blue had been done, +and St. Sylvester's, within and without, +was one of those nineteenth-century +churches which will doubtless be studied +with interest and wonder by the architect +of a future age if they can only +contrive to stand up till he comes. The +incumbent was High Church, as a matter +of course, and musical, more than as +a matter of course. Percival looked up +from his letter with a sudden remembrance +that Mr. Clifton was advertising +for an organist, and on his way to the +office he stopped to make inquiries at +the High Church bookseller's and to +post a line to Hammond. How if this +should suit Bertie Lisle? He tried hard +not to think too much about it, but the +mere possibility that the bright young +fellow, with his day-dreams, his unfinished +opera, his pleasant voice and happily +thoughtless talk, might come into +his life gave Percival a new interest in +it. Bertie had been a favorite of his +years before, when he used to go sometimes +to Mr. Lisle's. He still thought of +him as little more than a boy—the boy +who used to play to him in the twilight—and +he had some trouble to realize +that Bertie must be nearly two and twenty. +If he should come—But most likely +he would not come. It seemed a shame +even to wish to shut up the young musician, +with his love for all that was beautiful +and bright, in that grimy town. +Thorne resolved that he would not wish +it, but he opened Hammond's next letter +with unusual eagerness. Godfrey said +they thought it sounded well, especially +as when he named Brenthill it appeared +that the Lisles had some sort of acquaintance +living there, an old friend of their +mother's, he believed, which naturally +gave them an interest in the place. Bertie +had written to Mr. Clifton, who would +very shortly be in town, and had made an +appointment to meet him.</p> +<p> +The next news came in a note from +Lisle himself. On the first page there +was a pen-and-ink portrait of the incumbent +of St. Sylvester's with a nimbus, +and it was elaborately dated "Festival +of St. Hilary."</p> +<p> +"It is all as good as settled," was his +triumphant announcement, "and we are +in luck's way, for Judith thinks she has +heard of something for herself too. You +will see from my sketch that I have had +my interview with Mr. Clifton. He is +quite delighted with me. A great judge +of character, that man! He is to write +to one or two references I gave him, but +they are sure to be all right, for my +friends have been so bored with me and +my prospects for the last few weeks that +they would swear to my fitness for heaven <a name="page175" id="page175"></a><span class="left">[page 175]</span> +if it would only send me there. I rather +think, however, that St. Sylvester's +will suit me better for a little while. His +Reverence is going to look me up some +pupils, and I have bought a Churchman's +almanac, and am thinking about +starting an oratorio instead of my opera. +Wasn't it strange that when your letter +came from Brenthill we should remember +that an old friend of my mother's +lived there? Judith and she have been +writing to each other ever since. Clifton +is evidently undergoing tortures with the +man he has got now, so I should not wonder +if we are at Brenthill in a few days. +It will be better for my chance of pupils +too. I shall look you up without fail, and +expect you to know everything about +lodgings. How about Bellevue street? +Are you far from St. Sylvester's?"</p> +<p> +Thorne read the letter carefully, and +drew from it two conclusions and a perplexity. +He concluded that Bertie Lisle's +elastic spirits had quickly recovered the +shock of his father's failure and flight, +and that he had not the faintest idea +that any property of his—Percival's—had +gone down in the wreck. So much +the better.</p> +<p> +His perplexity was, What was Miss +Lisle going to do? Could the "we" who +were to arrive imply that she meant to +accompany her brother? And what was +the something she had heard of for herself? +The words haunted him. Was the +ruin so complete that she too must face +the world and earn her own living? A +sense of cruel wrong stirred in his inmost +soul.</p> +<p> +He made up his mind at last that she +was coming to establish Bertie in his +lodgings before she went on her own +way. He offered any help in his power +when he answered the letter, but he added +a postscript: "Don't think of Bellevue +street: you wouldn't like it." He heard +no more till one day he came back to his +early dinner and found a sealed envelope +on his table. It contained a half +sheet of paper, on which Bertie had +scrawled in pencil, "Why did you abuse +Bellevue street? We think it will do. +And why didn't you say there were +rooms in this very house? We have +taken them, so there is an end of your +peaceful solitude. I'm going to practise +for ever and ever. If you don't like it +there's no reason why you shouldn't +leave: it's a free country, they say."</p> +<p> +Percival looked round his room. She +had been there, then?—perhaps had stood +where he was standing. His glance fell +on the turquoise-blue vase and the artificial +flowers, and he colored as if he were +Lydia's accomplice. Had she seen those +and the <i>Language of Flowers</i>?</p> +<p> +As if his thought had summoned her, +Lydia herself appeared to lay the cloth for +his dinner. She looked quickly round: +"Did you see your note, Mr. Thorne?"</p> +<p> +"Thank you, yes," said Percival.</p> +<p> +"I supposed it was right to show them +in here to write it—wasn't it?" she asked +after a pause. "He said he knew you +very well."</p> +<p> +"Quite right, certainly."</p> +<p> +"A very pleasant-spoken young gentleman, +ain't he?" said Miss Bryant, setting +down a salt-cellar.</p> +<p> +"Very," said Percival.</p> +<p> +"Coming to play the High Church organ, +he tells me," Lydia continued, as if +the instrument in question were somehow +saturated with ritualism.</p> +<p> +"Yes—at St. Sylvester's."</p> +<p> +Lydia looked at him, but he was gazing +into the fire. She went out, came +back with a dish, shook her curl out of +the way, and tried again: "I suppose +we're to thank you for recommending +the lodgings—ain't we, Mr. Thorne? +I'm sure ma's much obliged to you. +And I'm glad"—this with a bashful +glance—"that you felt you could. It +seems as if we'd given satisfaction."</p> +<p> +"Certainly," said Percival. "But you +mustn't thank me in this case, Miss Bryant. +I really didn't know what sort of +lodgings my friend wanted. But of +course I'm glad Mr. Lisle is coming +here."</p> +<p> +"And ain't you glad <i>Miss</i> Lisle is +coming too, Mr. Thorne?" said Lydia +very archly. But she watched him, +lynx-eyed.</p> +<p> +He uttered no word of surprise, but he +could not quite control the muscles of his +face, and a momentary light leapt into<a name="page176" id="page176"></a><span class="left">[page 176]</span> +his eyes. "I wasn't aware Miss Lisle +<i>was</i> coming," he said.</p> +<p> +Lydia believed him. "That's true," +she thought, "but you're precious glad." +And she added aloud, "Then the pleasure +comes all the more unexpected, don't +it?" She looked sideways at Percival +and lowered her voice: "P'r'aps Miss +Lisle meant a little surprise."</p> +<p> +Percival returned her glance with a +grave scorn which she hardly understood. +"My dinner is ready?" he said. +"Thank you, Miss Bryant." And Lydia +flounced out of the room, half indignant, +half sorrowful: "<i>He</i> didn't know—that's +true. But <i>she</i> knows what she's +after, very well. Don't tell me!" To +Lydia, at this moment, it seemed as if +every girl must be seeking what she +sought. "And I call it very bold of her +to come poking herself where she isn't +wanted—running after a young man. +I'd be ashamed." A longing to scratch +Miss Lisle's face was mixed with a longing +to have a good cry, for she was honestly +suffering the pangs of unrequited +love. It is true that it was not for the +first time. The curl, the earrings, the +songs, the <i>Language of Flowers</i>, had +done duty more than once before. But +wounds may be painful without being +deep, although the fact of these former +healings might prevent all fear of any +fatal ending to this later love. Lydia +was very unhappy as she went down +stairs, though if another hero could be +found she was perhaps half conscious +that the melancholy part of her present +love-story might be somewhat abridged.</p> +<p> +The streets seemed changed to Percival +as he went back to his work. Their +ugliness was as bare and as repulsive as +ever, but he understood now that the +houses might hold human beings, his +brothers and his sisters, since some one +roof among them sheltered Judith Lisle. +Thus he emerged from the alien swarm +amid which he had walked in solitude so +many days. Above the dull and miry +ways were the beauty of her gray-blue +eyes and the glory of her golden hair. +He felt as if a white dove had lighted +on the town, yet he laughed at his own +feelings; for what did he know of her? +He had seen her twice, and her father +had swindled him out of his money.</p> +<p> +Never had his work seemed so tedious, +and never had he hurried so quickly to +Bellevue street as he did when it was +over. The door of No. 13 stood open, +and young Lisle stood on the threshold. +There was no mistaking him. His face +had changed from the beautiful chorister +type of two or three years earlier, but +Percival thought him handsomer than +ever. He ceased his soft whistling and +held out his hand: "Thorne! At last! I +was looking out for you the other way."</p> +<p> +Thorne could hardly find time to greet +him before he questioned eagerly, "You +have really taken the rooms here?"</p> +<p> +"Really and truly. What's wrong? +Anything against the landlady?"</p> +<p> +"No," said Percival. "She's honest +enough, and fairly obliging, and all the +rest of it. But then your sister is not +coming here to live with you, as they +told me? That was a mistake?"</p> +<p> +"Not a bit of it. She's coming: in +fact, she's here."</p> +<p> +"In Bellevue street?" Percival looked +up and down the dreary thoroughfare. +"But, Lisle, what a place to bring +her to!"</p> +<p> +"Beggars mustn't be choosers," said +Bertie. "We are not exactly what you +would call rolling in riches just now. +And Bellevue street happens to be about +midway between St. Sylvester's and Standon +Square, so it will suit us both."</p> +<p> +"Standon Square?" Percival repeated.</p> +<p> +"Yes. Oh, didn't I tell you? My mother +came to school at Brenthill. It was her +old schoolmistress we remembered lived +here when we had your letter. So we +wrote to her, and the old dear not only +promised me some pupils, but it is settled +that Judith is to go and teach there +every day. Judith thinks we ought to +stick to one another, we two."</p> +<p> +"You're a lucky fellow," said Percival. +"You don't know, and won't know, +what loneliness is here."</p> +<p> +"But how do <i>you</i> come to know anything +about it? That's what I can't understand. +I thought your grandfather +died last summer?"</p> +<p> +"So he did."</p> + +<a name="page177" id="page177"></a><span class="left">[page 177]</span> +<p> +"But I thought you were to come in +for no end of money?"</p> +<a name="p177" id="p177"></a> +<p class="center"> +<a href="images/illus-067-1200.jpg"><img src="images/illus-067-600.jpg" width="600" height="386" alt="'SHE DREW A SOFT WHITE CLOAK ROUND HER, AND WENT BY.'—Page 173." border="0" /></a><br /><br /> +<b>"SHE DREW A SOFT WHITE CLOAK ROUND HER, AND WENT BY."—Page 173.</b> +</p><br /><br /> + +<p> +"I didn't, you see."</p> +<p> +"But surely he always allowed you a +lot," said Lisle, still unsatisfied. "You +never used to talk of doing anything."</p> +<p> +"No, but I found I must. The fact is, +I'm not on the best terms with my cousin <a name="page178" id="page178"></a><span class="left">[page 178]</span> +at Brackenhill, and I made up my +mind to be independent. Consequently, +I'm a clerk—a copying-clerk, you understand—in +a lawyer's office here—Ferguson's +in Fisher street—and I lodge +accordingly."</p> +<p> +"I'm very sorry," said Bertie.</p> +<p> +"Hammond knows all about it," the +other went on, "but nobody else does."</p> +<p> +"I was afraid there was something +wrong," said Bertie—"wrong for you, I +mean. From our point of view it is +very lucky that circumstances have sent +you here. But I hope your prospects +may brighten; not directly—I can't +manage to hope that—but soon."</p> +<p> +Percival smiled. "Meanwhile," he +said with a quiet earnestness of tone, +"if there is anything I can do to help +you or Miss Lisle, you will let me do it."</p> +<p> +"Certainly," said Bertie. "We are going +out now to look for a grocer. Suppose +you come and show us one."</p> +<p> +"I'm very much at your service. What +are you looking at?"</p> +<p> +"Why—you'll pardon my mentioning +it—you have got the biggest smut on +your left cheek that I've seen since I +came here. They attain to a remarkable +size in Brenthill, have you noticed?" +Bertie spoke with eager interest, as if he +had become quite a connoisseur in smuts. +"Yes, that's it. I'll look Judith up, and +tell her you are going with us."</p> +<p> +Percival fled up stairs, more discomposed +by that unlucky black than he +would have thought possible. When +he had made sure that he was tolerably +presentable he waited by his open door +till his fellow-lodgers appeared, and then +stepped out on the landing to meet them. +Miss Lisle, dressed very simply in black, +stood drawing on her glove. A smile +dawned on her face when her eyes met +Percival's, and, greeting him in her low +distinct tones, she held out her white +right hand, still ungloved. He took it +with grave reverence, for Judith Lisle +had once touched his faint dream of a +woman who should be brave with sweet +heroism, tender and true. They had +scarcely exchanged a dozen words in +their lives, but he had said to himself, +"If I were an artist I would paint my +ideal with a face like that;" and the +memory, with its underlying poetry, +sprang to life again as his glance encountered +hers. Percival felt the vague +poem, though Bertie was at his elbow +chattering about shops, and though he +himself had hardly got over the intolerable +remembrance of that smut.</p> +<p> +When they were in the street Miss +Lisle looked eagerly about her, and asked +as they turned a corner, "Will this be +our way to St. Sylvester's?"</p> +<p> +"Yes. I suppose Bertie will make his +début next Sunday? I must come and +hear him."</p> +<p> +"Of course you must," said Lisle. +"Where do you generally go?"</p> +<p> +"Well, for a walk generally. Sometimes +it ends in some outlying church, +sometimes not."</p> +<p> +"Oh, but it's your duty to attend your +parish church when I play there. I +suppose St. Sylvester's <i>is</i> your parish +church?"</p> +<p> +"Not a bit of it. St. Andrew's occupies +that proud position. I've been there +three times, I think."</p> +<p> +"And what sort of a place is that?" +said Miss Lisle.</p> +<p> +"The dreariest, dustiest, emptiest place +imaginable," Percival answered, turning +quickly toward her. "There's an old +clergyman, without a tooth in his head, +who mumbles something which the congregation +seem to take for granted is the +service. Perhaps he means it for that: +I don't know. He's the curate, I think, +come to help the rector, who is getting +just a little past his work. I don't remember +that I ever saw the rector."</p> +<p> +"But does any one go?"</p> +<p> +"Well, there's the clerk," said Percival +thoughtfully; "and there's a weekly +dole of bread left to fourteen poor men +and fourteen poor women of the parish. +They must be of good character and +above the age of sixty-five. It is given +away after the afternoon service. When +I have been there, there has always been +a congregation of thirty, without reckoning +the clergyman." He paused in his +walk. "Didn't you want a grocer, Miss +Lisle? I don't do much of my shopping, +but I believe this place is as good as any."</p> + +<a name="page179" id="page179"></a><span class="left">[page 179]</span> +<p> +Judith went in, and the two young +men waited outside. In something less +than half a minute Lisle showed signs +of impatience. He inspected the grocer's +stock of goods through the window, +and extended his examination to a toyshop +beyond, where he seemed particularly +interested in a small and curly +lamb which stood in a pasture of green +paint and possessed an underground +squeak or baa. Finally, he returned to +Thorne. "You like waiting, don't you?" +he said.</p> +<p> +"I don't mind it."</p> +<p> +"And I do: that's just the difference. +Is there a stationer's handy?"</p> +<p> +"At the end of the street, the first turning +to the left."</p> +<p> +"I want some music-paper: I can get +it before Judith has done ordering in her +supplies if I go at once."</p> +<p> +"Go, then: you can't miss it. I'll wait +here for Miss Lisle, and we'll come and +meet you if you are not back."</p> +<p> +When Judith came out she looked +round in some surprise: "What has become +of Bertie, Mr. Thorne?"</p> +<p> +"Gone to the bookseller's," said Percival: +"shall we walk on and meet him?"</p> +<p> +They went together down the gray, +slushy street. The wayfarers seemed +unusually coarse and jostling that evening, +Percival thought, the pavement peculiarly +miry, the flaring gaslights very +cruel to the unloveliness of the scene.</p> +<p> +"Mr. Thorne," Judith began, "I am +glad of this opportunity. We haven't +met many times before to-day."</p> +<p> +"Twice," said Percival.</p> +<p> +She looked at him, a faint light of +surprise in her eyes. "Ah! twice," she +repeated. "But you know Bertie well. +You used often to come at one time, +when I was away?"</p> +<p> +"Oh yes, I saw a good deal of Bertie," +he replied, remembering how he had +taken a fancy to the boy.</p> +<p> +"And he used to talk to me about you. +I don't feel as if we were quite strangers, +Mr. Thorne."</p> +<p> +"Indeed, I hope not," said Percival, +eluding a baker's boy and reappearing +at her side.</p> +<p> +"I've another reason for the feeling, +too, besides Bertie's talk," she went on. +"Once, six or seven years ago, I saw +your father. He came in one evening, +about some business I think, and I still +remember the very tone in which he +talked of you. I was only a school-girl +then, but I could not help understanding +something of what you were to him."</p> +<p> +"He was too good to me," said Percival, +and his heart was very full. Those +bygone days with his father, which had +drifted so far into the past, seemed suddenly +brought near by Judith's words, +and he felt the warmth of the old tenderness +once more.</p> +<p> +"So I was very glad to find you here," +she said. "For Bertie's sake, not for +yours. I am so grieved that you should +have been so unfortunate!" She looked +up at him with eyes which questioned +and wondered and doubted all at once.</p> +<p> +But a small girl, staring at the shop-windows, +drove a perambulator straight +at Percival's legs. With a laugh he +stepped into the roadway to escape the +peril, and came back: "Don't grieve +about me, Miss Lisle. It couldn't be +helped, and I have no right to complain." +These were his spoken words: +his unspoken thought was that it served +him right for being such a fool as to trust +her father. "It's worse for you, I think, +and harder," he went on; "and if you +are so brave—"</p> +<p> +"It's for Bertie if I am," she said quickly: +"it is very hard on him. We have +spoilt him, I'm afraid, and now he will +feel it so terribly. For people cannot be +the same to us: how should they, Mr. +Thorne? Some of our friends have been +very good—no one could be kinder than +Miss Crawford—but it is a dreadful change +for Bertie. And I have been afraid of +what he would do if he went where he +had no companions. A sister is so helpless! +So I was very thankful when your +letter came. But I am sorry for you, Mr. +Thorne. He told me just now—"</p> +<p> +"But, as that can't be helped," said +Percival, "be glad for my sake too. I +have been very lonely."</p> +<p> +She looked up at him and smiled. "He +insisted on going to Bellevue street the +first thing this morning," she said. "I<a name="page180" id="page180"></a><span class="left">[page 180]</span> +don't think any other lodgings would +have suited him."</p> +<p> +"But they are not good enough for +you."</p> +<p> +"Oh yes, they are, and near Standon +Square, too: I shall only have seven or +eight minutes' walk to my work. I should +not have liked—Oh, here he is!—Bertie, +this is cool of you, deserting me in +this fashion!"</p> +<p> +"Why, of course you were all right +with Thorne, and he asked me to let +him help me in any way he could. I +like to take a man at his word."</p> +<p> +"By all means take me at mine," said +Percival.</p> +<p> +"Help you?" said Judith to her brother. +"Am I such a terrible burden, then?"</p> +<p> +"No," Thorne exclaimed. "Bertie is +a clever fellow: he lets me share his +privileges first, that I mayn't back out +of sharing any troubles later."</p> +<p> +"Are you going to save him trouble +by making his pretty speeches for him, +too?" Judith inquired with a smile. "You +are indeed a friend in need."</p> +<p> +They had turned back, and were walking +toward Bellevue street. As they went +into No. 13 they encountered Miss Bryant +in the passage. She glanced loftily +at Miss Lisle as she swept by, but she +turned and fixed a look of reproachful +tenderness on Percival Thorne. He +knew that he was guiltless in the matter, +and yet in Judith's presence he felt +guilty and humiliated beneath Lydia's +ostentatiously mournful gaze. The idea +that she would probably be jealous of +Miss Lisle flashed into his mind, to his +utter disgust and dismay. He turned +into his own room and flung himself +into a chair, only to find, a few minutes +later, that he was staring blankly at +Lydia's blue vase. But for the Lisles, +he might almost have been driven from +Bellevue street by its mere presence on +the table. It was beginning to haunt +him: it mingled in his dreams, and he +had drawn its hideous shape absently on +the edge of his blotting-paper. Let him be +where he might, it lay, a light-blue burden, +on his mind. It was not the vase only, but +he felt that it implied Lydia herself, curl, +turquoise earrings, smile and all, and on +the evening of his meeting with Judith +Lisle the thought was doubly hateful.</p> + +<hr class="shorter" /> + + +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h3> + +<h4>LYDIA REARRANGES HER CAP.</h4> + +<p> +Thus, as the days lengthened, and the +winter, bitter though it was, began to give +faint promise of sunlight to come, Percival +entered on his new life and felt the +gladness of returning spring. At the beginning +of winter our glances are backward: +we are like spendthrifts who have +wasted all in days of bygone splendor. +We sit, pinched and poverty-stricken, by +our little light of fire and candle, remembering +how the whole land was full of +warmth and golden gladness in our +lavish prime. But our feelings change as +the days grow clear and keen and long. +This very year has yet to wear its crown +of blossom. Its inheritance is to come, +and all is fresh and wonderful. We +would not ask the bygone summer for +one day more, for we have the beauty +of promise, instead of that beauty of +long triumph which is heavy and over-ripe, +and with March at hand we cannot +desire September.</p> +<p> +Percival's new life was cold and stern +as the February weather, but it had its +flitting gleams of grace and beauty in +brief words or passing looks exchanged +with Judith Lisle. He was no lover, to +pine for more than Fate vouchsafed. It +seemed to him that the knowledge that +he might see her was almost enough; +and it was well it should be so, for he +met her very seldom. She went regularly +to Standon Square, and came home +late and tired. She had one half-holiday +in the week, but Miss Crawford had +recommended her to a lady whose eldest +girl was dull and backward at her +music, and she spent a great part of that +afternoon in teaching Janie Barton. Bertie +was indignant: "Why should you, +who have an ear and a soul for music, +be tortured by such an incapable as +that? Let them find some one else to +teach her."</p> +<p> +"And some one else to take the money! +Besides, Mrs. Barton is so kind—"</p> + +<a name="page181" id="page181"></a><span class="left">[page 181]</span> +<p> +Bertie, who was lying on three chairs +in front of the fire, sat up directly and +looked resigned: "That's it! now for it! +No one is so good as Mrs. Barton, except +Miss Crawford; and no one is anything +like Miss Crawford, except Mrs. Barton. +Oh, I know! And old Clifton is the first +and best of men. And so you lavish +your gratitude on them—Judith, <i>why</i> +are all our benefactors such awful guys?—while they ought to be thanking their +stars they've got us!"</p> +<p> +"Nonsense, Bertie!"</p> +<p> +"'Tisn't nonsense. Aren't you better +than I am? And old Clifton is very lucky +to get such an organist. I think he is +thankful, but I wish he wouldn't show +it by asking me to tea again."</p> +<p> +"Don't complain of Mr. Clifton," said +Judith. "You are very fortunate, if you +only knew it."</p> +<p> +"Am I? Then suppose you go to tea +with him if you are so fond of him. I +rather think I shall have a severe cold +coming on next Tuesday."</p> +<p> +Judith said no more, being tolerably +sure that when Tuesday came Bertie +would go. But she was not quite happy +about him. She lived as if she idolized +the spoilt boy, but the blindness +which makes idolatry joyful was denied +to her. So that, though he was her first +thought every day of her life, the thought +was an anxious one. She was very grateful +to Miss Crawford for having given +him a chance, so young and untried as +he was, but she could only hope that +Bertie would not repay her kindness by +some thoughtless neglect. At present +all had gone well: there could be no +question about his abilities, Miss Crawford +was satisfied, and the young master +got on capitally with his pupils. Neither +was Judith happy when he was with Mr. +Clifton. Bertie came home to mimic the +clergyman with boyish recklessness, and +she feared that the same kind of thing +went on with some of the choir behind +Mr. Clifton's back. ("Behind his back?" +Bertie said one day. "Under his nose, if +you like: it would be all one to Clifton.") +He frightened her with his carelessness +in money-matters and his scarcely concealed +contempt for the means by which +he lived. "Thank Heaven! this hasn't +got to last for ever," he said once when +she remonstrated.</p> +<p> +"Don't reckon on anything else," she +pleaded. "I know what you are thinking +of. Oh, Bertie, I don't like you to +count on that."</p> +<p> +He threw back his head, and laughed: +"Well, if that fails, wait and see +what I can do for myself."</p> +<p> +He looked so bright and daring as +he spoke that she could hardly help +sharing his confidence. "Ah! the opera!" +she said. "But, Bertie, you must +work."</p> +<p> +"The opera—Yes, of course I will +work," Bertie answered. "Now you mention +it, it strikes me I may as well have +a pipe and think about it a bit. No time +like the present, is there?" So Bertie +had his pipe and a little quiet meditation. +There was a lingering smile on his face +as if something had amused him. He +always felt particularly virtuous when he +smoked his pipe, because it was so much +more economical than the cigars of his +prosperous days. "A penny saved is a +penny gained." Bertie felt as if he must +be gradually making his fortune as he +leant back and watched the smoke curl +upward.</p> +<p> +And yet, with it all, how could Judith +complain? He was the very life of the +house as he ran up and down stairs, filling +the dingy passages with melodious +singing. He had a bright word for every +one. The grimy little maid-servant +would have died for him at a moment's +notice. Bertie was always sweet-tempered: +in very truth, there was not a touch +of bitterness in his nature. And he was +so fond of Judith, so proud of her, so +thoroughly convinced of her goodness, +so sure that he should do great things +for her some day! What could she say +against him?</p> +<p> +Percival, too, was fascinated. His +room smelt of Bertie's tobacco and was +littered with blotted manuscripts. He +went so regularly to hear Bertie play +that Mr. Clifton noticed the olive-skinned, +foreign-looking young man, and +thought of asking him to join the Guild +of St. Sylvester and take a class in the<a name="page182" id="page182"></a><span class="left">[page 182]</span> +Sunday-school. Yet Percival also had +doubts about the young organist's future. +He knew that letters came now +and then from New York which saddened +Judith and brightened Bertie. If Mr. +Lisle prospered in America and summoned +his son to share his success, +would he have strength to cling to poverty +and honor in England? There were +times when Percival doubted it. There +were times, too, when he doubted whether +the boy's musical promise would ever +ripen to worthy fruit, though he was angry +with himself for his doubts. "If he +triumphs, it will be <i>her</i> doing," he thought. +Little as he saw of Judith, they were yet +becoming friends. You may meet a man +every day, and if you only talk to him +about the weather and the leading articles +in the <i>Times</i>, you may die of old age +before you reach friendship. But these +two talked of more than the weather. +Once, emboldened by her remembrance +of old days, he spoke of his father. He +hardly noticed at the time that Judith +took keen note of something he said of +the old squire's utter separation from his +son. "I was more Percival than Thorne +till I was twenty," said he.</p> +<p> +"And are you not more Percival than +Thorne still?"</p> +<p> +He liked to hear her say "Percival" +even thus. "Perhaps," he said. "But +it is strange how I've learned to care +about Brackenhill—or, rather, it wasn't +learning, it came by instinct—and now +no place on earth seems like home to +me except that old house."</p> +<p> +Judith, fair and clear-eyed, leaned +against the window and looked out into +the twilight. After a pause she spoke: +"You are fortunate, Mr. Thorne. You +can look back happily to your life with +your father."</p> +<p> +The intention of her speech was evident: +so was a weariness which he had +sometimes suspected in her voice. He +answered her: "And you cannot?"</p> +<p> +"No," she said. "I was wondering +just now how many people had reason +to hate the name of Lisle."</p> +<p> +Percival was not unconscious of the +humorous side of such a remark when +addressed to himself. But Judith looked +at him almost as if she would surprise +his thought.</p> +<p> +"Don't dwell on such things," he said. +"Men in your father's position speculate, +and perhaps hardly know how deeply +they are involved, till nothing but a +lucky chance will save them, and it +seems impossible to do anything but go +on. At last the end comes, and it is +very terrible. But you can't mend it."</p> +<p> +"No," said Judith, "I can't."</p> +<p> +"Then don't take up a useless burden +when you need all your strength. You +were not to blame in any way."</p> +<p> +"No," she said again, "I hope not. +But it is hard to be so helpless. I do +not even know their names. I can only +feel as if I ought to be more gentle and +more patient with every one, since any +one may be—"</p> +<p> +"Ah, Miss Lisle," said Percival, "you +will pay some of the debts unawares in +something better than coin."</p> +<p> +She shook her head, but when she +looked up at him there was a half smile +on her lips. As she moved away Percival +thought of Sissy's old talk about +heroic women—"Jael, and Judith, and +Charlotte Corday." He felt that this +girl would have gone to her death with +quiet dignity had there been need. Godfrey +Hammond had called her a plain +likeness of her brother, but Percival had +seen at the first glance that her face was +worth infinitely more than Bertie's, even +in his boyish promise; and an artist +would have turned from the brother to +the sister, justifying Percival.</p> +<p> +It was well for Percival that Judith's +friendly smile and occasional greeting +made bright moments in his life, since +he had no more of Lydia's attentions. +Poor grimy little Emma waited on him +wearily, and always neglected him if the +Lisles wanted her. She had apparently +laid in an immense stock of goods, for +she never went shopping now, but stayed +at home and let his fire go out, and +was late and slovenly with his meals. +There was no great dishonesty, but his +tea-caddy was no longer guarded and +provisions ceased to be mysteriously preserved. +Miss Bryant seldom met him on +the stairs, and when she did she flounced<a name="page183" id="page183"></a><span class="left">[page 183]</span> +past him in lofty scorn. Her slighted +love had turned to gall. She was bitter +in her very desire to convince herself +that she had never thought of Mr. Thorne. +She neglected to send up his letters; she +would not lift a finger to help in getting +his dinner ready; and if Emma happened +to be out of the way she would let his +bell ring and take no notice. Yet she +would have been very true to him, in +her own fashion, if he would have had +it so: she would have taken him for better, +for worse—would have slaved for him +and fought for him, and never suffered +any one else to find fault with him in +any way whatever. But he had not chosen +that it should be so, and Lydia had +reclaimed her heart and her pocket edition +of the <i>Language of Flowers</i>, and +now watched Percival and Miss Lisle +with spiteful curiosity.</p> +<p> +"I shall be late at Standon Square this +evening: Miss Crawford wants me," said +Judith one morning to her brother.</p> +<p> +"I'll come and meet you," was his +prompt reply. "What time? Don't let +that old woman work you into an early +grave."</p> +<p> +"There's no fear of that. I'm strong, +and it won't hurt me. Suppose you come +at half-past nine: you must have your tea +by yourself, I'm afraid."</p> +<p> +"That's all right," he answered cheerfully.</p> +<p> +"'That's all right?' What do you +mean by that, sir?"</p> +<p> +"I mean that I don't at all mind +when you don't come back to tea. I +think I rather prefer it. There, Miss +Lisle!"</p> +<p> +"You rude boy!" She felt herself +quite justified in boxing his ears.</p> +<p> +"Oh, I say, hold hard! Mind my violets!" +he exclaimed.</p> +<p> +"Your violets? Oh, how sweet they +are!" And bending forward, Judith +smelt them daintily. "Where did you +get them, Bertie?"</p> +<p> +"Ah! where?" And Bertie stood before +the glass and surveyed himself. The +cheap lodging-house mirror cast a greenish +shade over his features, but the little +bouquet in his buttonhole came out very +well. "Where did I get them? I didn't +buy them, if you mean that. They were +given to me."</p> +<p> +"Who gave them to you?"</p> +<p> +"And then women say it isn't fair to +call them curious!" Bertie put his head +on one side, dropped his eyelids, looked +out of the corners of his eyes, and smiled, +fingering an imaginary curl.</p> +<p> +"Not that nasty Miss Bryant? She +didn't!"</p> +<p> +"She did, though."</p> +<p> +"The wretch! Then you sha'n't wear +them one moment more." Bertie eluded +her attack, and stood laughing on the +other side of the table. "Oh, Bertie!" +suddenly growing very plaintive, "why +did you let me smell the nasty things?"</p> +<p> +"They are very nice," said Lisle, looking +down at the poor little violets. "Oh, +we are great friends, Lydia and I. I +shall have buttered toast for tea to-night."</p> +<p> +"Buttered toast? What do you mean?"</p> +<p> +"Why, it's a curious thing, but Emma—isn't +her name Emma?—always has to +work like a slave when you go out. I +don't know why there should be so much +more to do: you don't help her to clean +the kettles or the steps in the general +way, do you? It's a mystery. Anyhow, +Lydia has to see after my tea, and +then I have buttered toast or muffins +and rashers of bacon. Lydia's attentions +are just a trifle greasy perhaps, +now I come to think of it. But she +toasts muffins very well, does that young +woman, and makes very good tea too."</p> +<p> +"Bertie! I thought you made tea for +yourself when I was away."</p> +<p> +"Oh! did you? Not I: why should +I? I had some of Mrs. Bryant's raspberry +jam one night: that wasn't bad +for a change. And once I had some +prawns."</p> +<p> +"Oh, Bertie! How <i>could</i> you?"</p> +<p> +"Bless you, my child!" said Bertie, +"how serious you look! Where's the +harm? Do you think I shall make myself +ill? By the way, I wonder if Lydia +ever made buttered toast for Thorne? I +suspect she did, and that he turned up +his nose at it: she always holds her +head so uncommonly high if his name +is mentioned."</p> + +<a name="page184" id="page184"></a><span class="left">[page 184]</span> +<p> +"Do throw those violets on the fire," +said Judith.</p> +<p> +"Indeed, I shall do nothing of the kind. +I'm coming to Standon Square to give +my lessons this morning, with my violets. +See if I don't."</p> +<p> +The name of Standon Square startled +Judith into looking at the time. "I must +be off," she said. "Don't be late for the +lessons, and oh, Bertie, don't be foolish!"</p> +<p> +"All right," he answered gayly. Judith +ran down stairs. At the door she +encountered Lydia and eyed her with +lofty disapproval. It did not seem to +trouble Miss Bryant much. She knew +Miss Lisle disliked her, and took it as +an inevitable fact, if not an indirect compliment +to her conquering charms. So +she smiled and wished Judith good-morning. +But she had a sweeter smile for +Bertie when, a little later, carefully dressed, +radiant, handsome, with her violets in +his coat, he too went on his way to Standon +Square.</p> +<p> +If Judith had been in Bellevue street +when he came back, she might have +noticed that the little bouquet was gone. +Had it dropped out by accident? Or +had Bertie merely defended his violets +for fun, and thrown them away as soon +as her back was turned? Or what had +happened to them? There was no one +to inquire.</p> +<p> +Young Lisle strolled into Percival's +room, and found him just come in and +waiting for his dinner. "I'm going to +practise at St. Sylvester's this afternoon," +said the young fellow. "What +do you say to a walk as soon as you +get away?"</p> +<p> +Percival assented, and began to move +some of the books and papers which +were strewn on the table. Lisle sat on +the end of the horsehair sofa and watched +him. "I can't think how you can +endure that blue thing and those awful +flowers continually before your eyes," +he said at last.</p> +<p> +Percival shrugged his shoulders. He +could not explain to Lisle that to request +that Lydia's love-token might be removed +would have seemed to him to be like going +down to her level and rejecting what +he preferred to ignore. "What am I to +do?" he said. "I believe they think it +very beautiful, and I fancy the flowers +are home-made. People have different +ideas of art, but shall I therefore wound +Miss Bryant's feelings?"</p> +<p> +"Heaven forbid!" said Bertie. "Did +Lydia Bryant make those flowers? How +interesting!" He pulled the vase toward +him for a closer inspection. There was +a crash, and light-blue fragments strewed +the floor, Percival, piling his books +on the side-table, looked round with an +exclamation.</p> +<p> +"Hullo!" said Lisle, "I've done it! +Here's a pretty piece of work! And you +so fond of it, too!" He was picking up +the flowers as he spoke.—"Here, Emma," +as the girl opened the door, "I've +upset Mr. Thorne's flower-vase. Tell +Miss Bryant it was my doing, and I'm +afraid it won't mend. Better take up the +pieces carefully, though, on the chance." +This was thoughtful of Bertie, as the bits +were remarkably small. "And here are +the flowers—all right, I think. Have +you got everything?" He held the door +open while she went out with her load, +and then he came back rubbing his +hands: "Well, are you grateful? You'll +never see that again."</p> +<p> +Percival surveyed him with a grave +smile. "I'm grateful," he said. "But +I'd rather you didn't treat all the things +which offend my eye in the same way."</p> +<p> +Bertie glanced round at the furniture, +cheap, mean and shabby: "You think +I should have too much smashing to +do?"</p> +<p> +"I fear it might end in my sitting cross-legged +on the floor," said Thorne. "And +my successor might cavil at Mrs. Bryant's +idea of furnished lodgings."</p> +<p> +"Well, I know I've done you a good +turn to-day," Bertie rejoined: "my conscience +approves of my conduct." And +he went off whistling.</p> +<p> +Percival, on his way out, met Lydia +on the landing. "Miss Bryant, have +you a moment to spare?" he said as she +went rustling past.</p> +<p> +She stopped ungraciously.</p> +<p> +"The flower-vase on my table is broken. +If you can tell me what it cost I +will pay for it."</p> + +<a name="page185" id="page185"></a><span class="left">[page 185]</span> +<p> +"Mr. Lisle broke it, didn't he? Emma +said—"</p> +<p> +"No matter," said Thorne: "it was +done in my room. It is no concern of +Mr. Lisle's. Can you tell me?"</p> +<p> +Lydia hesitated. Should she let him +pay for it? Some faint touch of refinement +told her that she should not take +money for what she had meant as a love-gift. +She looked up and met the utter indifference +of his eyes as he stood, purse +in hand, before her. She was ashamed +of the remembrance that she had tried +to attract his attention, and burned to +deny it. "Well, then, it was three-and-six," +she said.</p> +<p> +Percival put the money in her hand. +She eyed it discontentedly.</p> +<p> +"That's right, isn't it?" he asked in +some surprise.</p> +<p> +The touch of the coins recalled to her +the pleasure with which she had spent +her own three-and-sixpence to brighten +his room, and she half repented. "Oh, +it's right enough," she said. "But I +don't know why you should pay for it. +Things will get knocked over—"</p> +<p> +"I beg your pardon: of course I ought +to pay for it," he replied, drawing himself +up. He spoke the more decidedly +that he knew how it was broken. "But, +Miss Bryant, it will not be necessary to +replace it. I don't think anything of the +kind would be very safe in the middle +of my table." And with a bow he went +on his way.</p> +<p> +Lydia stood where he had left her, +fingering his half-crown and shilling +with an uneasy sense that there was +something very mean about the transaction. +Now that she had taken his +money she disliked him much more, +but, as she <i>had</i> taken it, she went away +and bought herself a pair of grass-green +gloves. From that time forward she always +openly declared that she despised +Mr. Thorne.</p> +<p> +That evening, when they came back +from their walk, Lisle asked his companion +to lend him a couple of sovereigns. +"You shall have them back +to-morrow," he said airily. Percival assented +as a matter of course. He hardly +thought about it at all, and if he had +he would have supposed that there was +something to be paid in Miss Lisle's absence. +He had still something left of the +small fortune with which he had started. +It was very little, but he could manage +Bertie's two sovereigns with that and the +money he had laid aside for Mrs. Bryant's +weekly bill.</p> +<p> +Percival Thorne, always exact in his +accounts, supposed that a time was fixed +for the repayment of the loan. He did +not understand that his debtor was one +of those people who when they say "I +will pay you to-morrow," merely mean +"I will not pay you to-day."</p> + +<hr class="shorter" /> + + +<h3>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h3> + +<h4>CONCERNING SISSY.</h4> + +<p> +Percival had announced the fact of +the Lisles' presence in Bellevue street +to Sissy in a carefully careless sentence. +Sissy read it, and shivered sadly. Then +she answered in a peculiarly bright and +cheerful letter. "I'm not fit for him," +she thought as she wrote it. "I don't +understand him, and I'm always afraid. +Even when he loved me best I felt as if +he loved some dream-girl and took me +for her in his dream, and would be angry +with me when he woke. Miss Lisle +would not be afraid. It is the least I can +do for Percival, not to stand in the way +of his happiness—the least I can do, and +oh, how much the hardest!" So she gave +Thorne to understand that she was getting +on remarkably well.</p> +<p> +It was not altogether false. She had +fallen from a dizzy height, but she had +found something of rest and security in +the valley below. And as prisoners cut +off from all the larger interests of their +lives pet the plants and creatures which +chance to lighten their captivity, so did Sissy +begin to take pleasure in little gayeties +for which she had not cared in old days. +She could sleep now at night without +apprehension, and she woke refreshed. +There was a great blank in her existence +where the thunderbolt fell, but the +cloud which hung so blackly overhead +was gone. The lonely life was sad, but +it held nothing quite so dreadful as the<a name="page186" id="page186"></a><span class="left">[page 186]</span> +fear that a day might come when Percival +and his wife would know that they +stood on different levels—that she could +not see with his eyes nor understand his +thoughts—when he would look at her +with sorrowful patience, and she would +die slowly of his terrible kindness. The +lonely life was sad, but, after all, Sissy +Langton would not be twenty-one till +April.</p> +<p> +Percival read her letter, and asked +Godfrey Hammond how she really was. +"Tell me the truth," he said: "you know +all is over between us. She writes cheerfully. +Is she better than she was last +year?"</p> +<p> +Hammond replied that Sissy was certainly +better. "She has begun to go out +again, and Fordborough gossip says that +there is something between her and young +Hardwicke. He is a good fellow, and I +fancy the old man will leave him very +well off. But she might do better, and +there are two people, at any rate, who +do not think anything will come of it—myself +and young Hardwicke."</p> +<p> +Percival hoped not, indeed.</p> +<p> +A month later Hammond wrote that +there was no need for Percival to excite +himself about Henry Hardwicke. Mrs. +Falconer had taken Sissy and Laura to +a dance at Latimer's Court, and Sissy's +conquests were innumerable. Young +Walter Latimer and a Captain Fothergill +were the most conspicuous victims. +"I believe Latimer rides into Fordborough +every day, and the captain, being +stationed there, is on the spot. Our St. +Cecilia looks more charming than ever, +but what she thinks of all this no one +knows. Of course Latimer would be the +better match, as far as money goes—he +is decidedly better-looking, and, I should +say, better-tempered—but Fothergill has +an air about him which makes his rival +look countrified, so I suppose they are +tolerably even. Neither is overweighted +with brains. What do you think? Young +Garnett cannot say a civil word to either +of them, and wants to give Sissy a dog. +He is not heart-whole either, I take it."</p> +<p> +Hammond was trying to probe his +correspondent's heart. He flattered himself +that he should learn something from +Percival, let him answer how he would. +But Percival did not answer at all. The +fact was, he did not know what to say. +It seemed to him that he would give +anything to hear that Sissy was happy, +and yet—</p> +<p> +Nor did Sissy understand herself very +well. Her grace and sweetness attracted +Latimer and Fothergill, and a certain +gentle indifference piqued them. +She was not sad, lest sadness should be +a reproach to Percival. In truth, she +hardly knew what she wished. One day +she came into the room and overheard +the fag-end of a conversation between +Mrs. Middleton and a maiden aunt of +Godfrey Hammond's who had come to +spend the day. "You know," said the +visitor, "I never could like Mr. Percival +Thorne as much as—"</p> +<p> +Sissy paused on the threshold, and +Miss Hammond stopped short. The +color mounted to her wintry cheek, and +she contrived to find an opportunity to +apologize a little later: "I beg your pardon, +my dear, for my thoughtless remark +just as you came in. I know so little +that my opinion was worthless. I really +beg your pardon."</p> +<p> +"What for?" said Sissy. "For what +you said about Percival Thorne? My +dear Miss Hammond, people can't be +expected to remember <i>that</i>. Why, we +agreed that it should be all over and +done with at least a hundred years ago." +She spoke with hurried bravery.</p> +<p> +The old lady looked at her and held +out her hands: "My dear, is the time +always so long since you parted?"</p> +<p> +Sissy put the proffered hands airily +aside and scoffed at the idea. They +had a crowd of callers that afternoon, +but the girl lingered more than once by +Miss Hammond's side and paid her delicate +little attentions. This perplexed +young Garnett very much when he had +ascertained from one of the company that +the old woman had nothing but an annuity +of three hundred a year. He hoped +that Sissy Langton wasn't a little queer, +but, upon his word, it looked like it.</p> +<p class="center"> +[TO BE CONTINUED.]</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> +<a name="page187" id="page187"></a><span class="left">[page 187]</span> + +<h2>A WELSH WATERING-PLACE.</h2> + +<p> +On the eastern shore of that stretch +of land which forms the extreme +south-western point of Wales stands the +stony little seaport town of Tenby. It is +an old, old town, rich in historical legends, +an important place in the twelfth century +and down to Queen Elizabeth's reign. +Soon after her time it fell into woeful +decay, and for years of whose number +there is no record Tenby existed as a +poor fishing-village and mourned its departed +glories. That it would ever again +be a place of interest to anybody but people +of fishy pursuits was an idea Tenby +did not entertain concerning itself; but, +lo! in the present century there arose +a custom among genteel folk of going +down to the sea in bathing-machines. +It was discovered that Tenby was a spot +favored of Neptune (or whatever god or +goddess regulates the matter of surf-bathing), +and Tenby was taken down from the +shelf, as it were, dusted, mended and +set on its legs again. The fashionables +smiled on it. Away off in the depths of +wild Wales the knowing few set up their +select and choice summer abode, and +vaunted its being so far away from home; +for Tenby was farther from London in +those old coaching days than New York +is in these days of steamships. Even +years after railroads found their way into +Wales, Tenby remained remote and was +approachable only by coach; but now +you can step into your railway-carriage +in London and trundle to Tenby without +change between your late breakfast and +your late dinner.</p> +<p> +Probably no seaside watering-place +known to the polite world contrasts so +strongly with the typical American watering-place +as does this Welsh resort. +Not at Brighton, not at Biarritz, not at +any German spa, will the tourist find so +complete a contrast in every respect to +Long Branch or Newport. Tenby is almost +<i>sui generis</i>. A watering-place without +a wooden building in it would of itself +be a novelty to an American. Our +summer cities consist wholly of wooden +buildings, but Tenby, from the point of +its ponderous pier, where the waves break +as on a rock, to the tip of its church-spire, +which the clouds kiss, is every +inch of stone. Welshmen will not build +even so insignificant a structure as a pig-sty +out of boards if there are stones to be +had. I have seen stone pig-sties in Glamorganshire +with walls a foot thick and +six hundred years old. There is not a +wooden building in Tenby. The station-buildings +are "green" (as the Welsh say +of a new house), but they are solid stone.</p> +<p> +Alighting from the railway-carriage in +which you have come down from London, +you are greeted with no clamor of +bawling hack-drivers and hotel-omnibus +men roaring in stentorian tones the +names of their various houses. Three +or four quiet serving-men in corduroy +small-clothes and natty coats touch their +hats to you and look in your face inquiringly. +They represent the various hotels +in Tenby, and at a gesture of assent from +you one of them takes your bags, your +wraps, whatever you are burdened with, +and conducts you to a somewhat antiquated +vehicle which bears you to your +chosen inn through some gray stony +streets, under an ivy-green archway of +the ancient town-wall; and as the vehicle +draws up at the inn-door the beauty +of Tenby lies spread suddenly before you—the +lovely bay, the cliffs, the sands, the +ruined castle on the hill, the restless sea +beyond. A handsome young person in +an elaborate toilet as regards her back +hair, but not otherwise impressive in attire, +comes to the door of the hotel to +meet you, and gently inquires concerning +your wishes: that you have come to +stay in the house is a presumption which +no properly constituted young person in +Tenby would venture upon without express +warrant in words. Receiving information +on this point from you, the +probability is that she imparts to you in +return the information that the house is<a name="page188" id="page188"></a><span class="left">[page 188]</span> +full. Such, indeed, is the chronic condition +of the hotels at Tenby in the season; +and unless you have written beforehand +and secured accommodations, +you are not likely to find them. In the +life of a Welsh watering-place hotels do +not fill the important place they do in +American summer resorts. Nobody lives +at an hotel in Tenby. If their stay be longer +than a day or two (and very few indeed +are they who come to-day and are off to-morrow), +visitors inevitably go into lodgings. +Such is the custom of the country, +and there is no provision for any other, +no encouragement to a prolonged stay +at an hotel. The result is, that the hotels +are in an incessant state of bustle and +change: there is a never-intermitting +stream of arrivals, who only ask to be +made comfortable for a night or two +while they are looking for lodgings, and +then make way for the next squad. Tenby +abounds in lodging-houses, the expenses +of which are smaller than hotel +expenses, while their comforts are greater, +their cares actually less and their good +tone unquestionable. The various lodging-house +quarters vie with each other in +genteel cognomens and aristocratic flavor. +The Esplanade is but a row of +lodging-houses. The various Terraces, +each with a prenomen more graceful than +the other, are the same. The windows of +Tudor Square and Victoria street, Paragon +Place and Glendower Crescent, bloom +with invitations to "inquire within." A +handsome parlor and bedroom may be +had for two pounds a week, and the cost +of food and sundries need not exceed two +pounds more for two persons moderately +fond of good living; which means, at +Tenby, the fattest and whitest of fowls, +the freshest and daintiest salmon and +john dories, the reddest and sweetest of +lobsters and prawns. Those who prefer +to take a house have every encouragement +to do so. A bijou of a furnished +cottage, all overrun with vines and flowers, +may be had for three pounds a +month, the use of plate and linen included. +These things are fatal to hotel +ambition, for although the hotels are not +expensive, from an American point of +view, they cannot compete with such figures +as these. Hence there is nothing to +induce a change in the customs of Tenby, +which have prevailed ever since it became +a watering-place. Britons do not change +their habits without good and valid cause +therefor, and no Americans ever come to +Tenby, so far as I can learn.</p> +<p> +We are Americans ourselves, of course, +and we are going to do as Americans do—viz. +make a very brief stay, and that in +an hotel. We obtain accommodations at +last through a happy fortune, and presently +find ourselves installed in the grandest +suite of hotel-apartments at Tenby—a +large parlor, handsomely furnished, with +a piano, books, <i>objets d'art</i>, etc., and a +bedroom off it. At Long Branch, were +there such an apartment there—which +there is not—twenty dollars a day would +be charged for it, without board and without +compunction. Here we pay nineteen +shillings. There is a magnificent +view from our front windows. The hotel +stands close to the cliff, with only a +narrow street between its doorstep and +the edge of the precipice. The night is +falling, and the scene is like Fairy Land. +We look from our windows straight down +upon the sands, a dizzy distance below +(but to which it were easy to toss a +pebble), and out over the glassy waters, +where small craft float silently, with the +gray old stone pier and the dark ivy-hung +ruin on Castle Hill, the one reflected +in the waves, the other outlined +against the sky—a lovely picture. Tenby +covers the ridge of a long and narrow +promontory rising abruptly out of the sea, +its stone streets running along the dizzy +limestone cliffs. From the highest point +eastward—where is presented toward the +sea a front of rugged precipices which +would not shame a mountain-range—the +promontory slopes gradually lower +and lower till the streets of the town run +stonily down sidewise through an ancient +gate and debouch upon the south beach. +Then, as if repenting its condescension, +the promontory takes a fresh start, and +for a brief spurt climbs again, but quickly +plunges into the sea. This spurt, however, +creates the picturesque hill on which +of old stood a powerful Norman fortress, +whose ruins we see. Local enterprise<a name="page189" id="page189"></a><span class="left">[page 189]</span> +has now laid out the hill as a public +pleasure-ground, with gravelled paths +and rustic seats, and glorified it with a +really superb statue of the late Prince +Albert, who, the Welsh inscription asserts, +was <i>Albert Dda, Priod Ein Gorhoffus +Frenhines Victoria</i>.</p> +<p> +We find upon inquiry that our hotel so +far infringes upon primitive Welsh manners +as to provide a <i>table-d'hôte</i> dinner +at six. This is most welcome news, and +we become at once part of the company +which sits down to the table d'hôte. +There are ten people besides ourselves, +and not a commonplace or colorless +character among them. My left-hand +neighbor is a somewhat slangy young +gentleman in a suit of chequered clothes, +who carves the meats, being at the head +of the table; and my happy propinquity +secures me the honor of selection by the +young gentleman as the recipient of his +observations: a toughish round of beef +which he is called upon to carve evokes +from him an aside to the effect that it is +"rather a dose." The foot of the table +is held by an old gentleman in a black +stock, with a tuft of wiry hair on the front +part of his head, and none whatever on +any other part, who carves a fowl, and +in asking the diners which part they severally +prefer accompanies the question +with a brisk sharpening of his knife on +his fork, but without making the least +noise in doing it. My chequered neighbor +having advertised the toughness of +the beef, everybody murmurs a purpose +of indulging in fowl, at which my neighbor +observes aside to me that he is "rather +jolly glad," and the butler takes the +beef away. The dish next set before +him proving a matter of spoons merely, +his relief at not being obliged to carve +finds vent in a whispered "Hooray!" for +my exclusive amusement. One unfortunate +individual has accepted a helping +of beef, however—a bald-headed man +in spectacles, not hitherto unaccustomed +to good living, if one might judge by his +rounded proportions. It is painful to witness +his struggles with the beef, which +he maintains with the earnestness of a +man who means to conquer or perish +in the endeavor. Opposite sits as fair a +type of a ripe British beauty of the middle +class as I have anywhere seen—with +a complexion of snow, a mouth like a +red bud and eyes as beautiful and expressive +as those of a splendid large wax +doll, her hair drawn tensely back and +rolled into billowy puffs, with a rose +atop. It is sad, in looking on a picture +like this—superb in its suggestions of +pure rich blood and abounding health—to +reflect that such a rose will develop +into a red peony in ten years. I do not +say the peony will not have her own +strong recommendings to the eye: we +may not despise a peony, but it is impossible +not to regret that a rose should +turn into one. There is a very good example +of the peony sort near the foot of +the table—quite a magnificent creature +in her way. Her husband, who sits next +her, is a fiercely-bearded man, but has a +strange air of being in his wife's custody +nevertheless. The lady is apparently +forty-five, red to a fault, full in the neck, +and with a figure which necessitates a +somewhat haughty pose of the head unless +one would appear gross and piggish. +There is much to admire in this lady, +peony though she be. The fiercely-bearded +husband is smaller than his +wife, and, in spite of her commanding +air and his subdued aspect, I have not +a doubt he rules her with a rod of iron. +Appearances are very deceptive in this +direction. I have known so many large +ladies married to little men who (the +ladies) carried themselves in public like +grenadiers or drum-majors, and in private +doted on their little lords' shoe-strings! +Next the fiercely-bearded husband +sits a very pretty girl, whom he +finds his entertainment in constantly +observing with the air of a connoisseur. +She is modesty itself; her eyes are never +off her plate; and from the at-ease manner +in which he contemplates her it is +clear he no more expects her to return +his gaze than he expects a torpedo to +go off under his chair.</p> +<p> +The dinner proceeds most decorously. +If it were a funeral, indeed, it could hardly +be less given to anything approaching +hilarity. There is now and then a little +conversation, but the gaps are frightful<a name="page190" id="page190"></a><span class="left">[page 190]</span> +—yawning chasms of silence of the sort +in which you are moved to wild thoughts +of running away, for fear you may suddenly +commit some act of horrible impropriety, +like whistling in church. In +one of these gaps—during which the +whole company, having finished the +course, is waiting gloomily for the victim +of tough beef (who is still struggling) +to have done—my chequered neighbor +remarks, in an aside which makes every +one start as if a pistol had been fired off, +"Goodish-sized pause, eh?"</p> +<p> +But with the dessert we begin to unbend. +We are still exceedingly decorous, +but our tongues are loosened a little, +and we exchange amiable remarks, +under whose genial influence we begin +to feel that the worst is over. Unfortunately, +however, with the spread of sunshine +among us there is the muttering of +a storm at our backs: the butler pushes +his female assistant aside with deep rumbling +growls, and presently explodes with +open rage at her stupidity. The diners +turn and stare incredulous and amazed. +The butler rushes madly from the room. +The female assistant, agitated but obstinate, +seizes the blanc-mange and the +cream and proceeds to serve them. I +shall not be believed, I fear, but I am +relating simple truth: in her agitation +this incredible female spills the cream +in a copious shower-bath over me and +my chequered neighbor, and excitedly +falls to mopping it off us with her napkin, +like a pantomime clown. Fortunately, +we are in our travelling suits, +and come out of this baptism unharmed. +The incident nearly suffocates the +company, for there is not a soul among +them who would not sooner suffer the +pangs of dissolution than laugh outright. +As for me, I am nearly expiring with the +merriment that consumes me and my +efforts to prevent indecorous explosion. +The young woman, after having wiped +me dry, once more presents the cream-jug, +this time with both hands, but I +can only murmur faintly in my trouble, +"Thanks, no—no <i>more</i> cream." This +appears to be quite too much for the +young person, who throws up her arms +in despair and rushes after the butler. +What tragic encounter there may have +been in the servants' hall I know not. +Another servant comes and carries the +dinner through.</p> +<p> +It is entertainment enough for the first +morning of your stay at Tenby just to sit +at the windows and observe what is there +before you—the street with its passers, +the beach with its strange rock-formations, +the ocean thickly dotted with fishing-craft. +The tide is out, and the huge +black block of compact limestone called +God's Rock, with its almost perpendicular +strata, lies all uncovered in the morning +sun—a vast curiosity-shop where children +clamber about and search for strange +creatures of the sea. In the pools left +here and there by the receding tide are +found not only crabs and periwinkles in +great number, but polyps, sea-anemones, +star-fishes, medusæ and the like in almost +endless variety. Naturalists—who +are but children older grown, with all a +child's capacity for being amused by Nature—get +rages of enthusiasm on them +as they search the crevices of this and +other like rocks at Tenby. A floor of +hard yellow sand stretches away into the +distance, visible for miles, owing to the +circular sweep of the beach and the +height from which we are looking out, +and it is dotted with strollers appearing +like black mice moving slowly about. +The long stretch of the cliff, from its +crescent shape, is clearly seen—sometimes +a sheer, bare stone precipice, sometimes +a steep slope covered with woods +and hanging gardens and zigzag, descending +walled paths.</p> +<p> +Among those who make up the human +panorama of the street under your window +are types of character peculiar to +Wales. One such is the peddling fisher-woman +who strolls by with a basketful +of bright pink prawns, which she holds +out to you temptingly, looking up. The +fisher-women of Tenby wear a costume +differing in some respects from that of +all other Welsh peasants. Instead of the +glossy and expensive "beaver" worn in +other parts, the Tenby women sport a +tall hat of straw or badly-battered felt. +Another favorite with them is a soft black +slouch hat like a man's, but with a knot<a name="page191" id="page191"></a><span class="left">[page 191]</span> +of ribbon in front. One of the neatest +of the fisher-women is an old girl of fifty +or so, who haunts your windows incessantly, +and greets you with a quick-dropped +courtesy whenever you walk +out. She is never seen to stand still, +except for the purpose of talking to a +customer, but trots incessantly about; +and either for this reason, or from her +constant journeys to and fro between +her home and the town, is given the +nickname of Dame Trudge. She usually +has on her back a coarse oyster-basket +called a "creel," and in her +hands another basket containing cooked +prawns, lobsters or other temptation +to the gourmand. Her dress, though it +is midsummer, is warm and snug, particularly +about the head and neck, as a +protection against the winds of ocean; +and her stout legs are encased in jet-black +woollen stockings (visible below +her short check petticoat), while her feet +are shod with huge brogans whose inch-thick +soles are heavily plated with iron. +She lives ten miles from Tenby, walks +to and fro always, and sleeps under her +own roof every night, yet you never fail +to see her there in the street when you +get up in the morning. There are many +other oyster-women to be seen at Tenby, +but none so trim as good Dame Trudge. +Here and hereabout grow the largest, if +not the sweetest, oysters in Great Britain, +and their cultivation is chiefly the work +of the gentler sex. They do not look +very gentle—or at least very frail—as +you come upon a group of oyster-women +in their masculine hats and boots munching +their bread and cheese under a wall, +but they are a good-natured race, and +most respectful to their betters. Anything +less suggestive of Billingsgate than +the language of these Welsh fisher-women +could hardly be, considering their trade.</p> +<p> +The tide of passers is setting toward +the south sands. Foreigners are almost +unrepresented in this throng. There is +one Frenchman, who would be recognizable +as far off as he could be seen +by his contrast to the prevailing British +tone. It is a mystery why he should be +here instead of at Trouville, Boulogne, +Dieppe or Étretat, where the habits of +the gay world are all his own. Nobody +seems to know him at Tenby. Behind +him walks quite as pronounced a type +of the Welsh country gentleman—a character +not to be mistaken for an Englishman, +in spite of the family resemblance. +A shrewd simplicity characterizes this +face—an open, guileless sharpness, so +to speak, peculiarly Welsh. An indifferent +judge of human nature might venture +to attempt heathen games with this +old gentleman, but no astute rogue would +think of such a thing. A man of this +stamp, however green and rural, is not +gullible. This Welsh simplicity of character +is very deceptive to the unwary, +and many besides Ancient Pistol have +eaten leeks against their will because +of their ignorance concerning it.</p> +<p> +We join the throng in the street and +stroll leisurely down the long incline. +The whole town tips that way. A variety +of more or less quaint vehicles +move about—cabriolets drawn by donkeys +and ponies; sedan chairs; a species +of easy-chair on wheels, with a wooden +apron, and propelled by a boy or a decayed +footman in seedy livery with bibulous +habits written on his face. Something +of a similar sort was seen at the +Centennial, yet utterly unlike this, notwithstanding +a resemblance in principle. +These invalid go-carts are very convenient +at Tenby, as they may be trundled +everywhere, even on the sands, which +are hard and flat. A peculiarity of all +the vehicles, even those drawn by two +animals, is that they go slower, as a +rule, than on-foot people do. Briskly-walking +couples and groups of English +and Welsh ladies pass us, carrying over +their arms bathing-dresses or towels, with +the business-like alacrity of movement +characteristic of most Britons on their +feet. No one saunters except ourselves. +All are hastening to the south sands, +looking neither to the right nor the left; +but for us there are eye-lures in every +direction. The town abounds with antiquities +calculated to awaken the liveliest +interest in a stranger: every street is +rich with romantic story; every hill and +rock for miles around has its legend, its +ruin of castle, abbey or palace, or its<a name="page192" id="page192"></a><span class="left">[page 192]</span> +mysterious cromlech,—all that can most +charm the soul of the antiquary; and +Shakespeare has honored this corner of +Wales beyond others by putting it in +one of his tragedies. Considerable portions +of the ancient town-wall are standing, +with the mural towers and gateways. +In the parish church, which we +pass, are some most interesting monuments +of the early half of the fourteenth +century, but the Tenbyites look upon +their church as rather a modern structure, +as churches go in Wales. They +point out the place where John Wesley +preached in the street in 1763, when the +mayor threatened to read the riot act. +There is still a law in Wales against +street-preaching, but it is not often enforced, +unless the preacher happens to +be drunk—an incident not altogether +unknown.</p> +<p> +The old stone pier abounds with seafaring +characters in holiday rig, very +picturesque to American eyes. They +knuckle their foreheads and remove +their pipes as we pass, and by attitudes +and gestures which would inform a deaf-mute +invite us to take a sail on the bay. +They do not audibly offer their services, +for the municipal laws forbid them to, +but their figureheads are mutely eloquent. +Here is one who might be put +right on the stage as he stands as the +typical jolly Jack Tar of the nautical +drama. He wears a red liberty-cap, +and a nose which matches it to a shade. +His jersey is blue and low in the neck, +and his trousers are of that roominess +supposed to be necessary for nautical +purposes. Other mariners about him +are quite as interesting. Occasionally +one is seen whose rig is so neat he might +have stepped out of a bandbox, but, +though he is an ornamental mariner, he +is not a Brummagem one. These fellows +all know storm and danger and +severe toil as common acquaintances. +The neatest of them are understood to +be residents here, with wives or mothers +who strive hard to keep them looking +nice in the fashionable season; and in +blue flannel shirt with immense broad +collar, another broad collar of white +turned over that, hat of neat straw or +tarpaulin with upturned rim and bright +blue ribbon, they form a feature of attractiveness +which has no counterpart at +American seaside resorts. The rougher +mariners, if not so handsome, are still +most picturesque: they are chiefly fishermen +from the Devonshire coast, who +sail over here to take the salmon, mackerel, +herrings, turbots, soles, etc. which +so abound at Tenby. The spot still bears +out, in spite of its modern glories as a +watering-place, its ancient renown as a +fishing-point, which was so great that the +old-time Britons called it <i>Denbych y Piscoed</i> +("the hill by the place of fishes").</p> +<p> +On the Castle Hill we find a great company +gathered, looking down on the still +greater company which is gathered on the +yellow sands. Children are climbing and +rolling on the soft greensward of the terraces, +and adults are sprawling at full +length, completely at their ease. Men +and women lounge to and fro on the +sea-wall promenade, a miniature of the +Hyde Park throng at mid-season. Others +sit reading or chatting or looking out +over the sparkling sea. The grass and +crags are dotted with azure and purple +flowers, and cushions of pink and white +stone-crop abound. Higher up the hill +stand the ivied ruins of the Norman castle, +and the white memorial monument +to Prince Albert, with its sculptured panels +bearing the arms of Llewellyn the +Great, the red dragon of Cadwalader, the +symbolical leek and the motto, <i>Anorchfygol +Ddraig Cymru</i> ("The dragon of +Wales is invincible"). The air is very +cool and bracing on this hill. But the +greatest crowd is on the sands and on +the rocks of the cliff immediately backing +the beach. It is difficult for one who +is familiar only with the beach at Long +Branch or Cape May to comprehend such +a scene as this which I am trying to picture. +In the first place, the field is so +entirely different from that at home; and +in the second place, the bathing population +of the town is not broken up into +a number of hotel communities and cottage +communities, but is all gathered at +one spot. It is true some residents on +the north cliff bathe on the north sands, +but they come to the south sands after<a name="page193" id="page193"></a><span class="left">[page 193]</span> +they have had their dip, to meet <i>le monde</i>. +There is room here for <i>le monde</i> too; and +the groups not only sprinkle the wide +yellow plain, but they are perched about +on the face of the cliff in grottos and on +jutting crags; they are grouped in the +cool shade of rocky caverns at the precipice's +base; they are leaning on the +battlemented walls that crown its summit. +The water is a considerable distance +from where the people sit, and +minute by minute, as the time passes, it +recedes farther and farther, until at last +it is a long walk away. The gay hues +of red-coated soldiers assist feminine +attire in enlivening the scene with color. +Children in great numbers are scampering +about, and busying themselves, much +as they do at home, with toy pails and +spades; but if you take notice you will +find that their sand-structures differ widely +from those of children in America: +you may even see a perfect model of a +feudal castle grow into shape, with barbacan, +gate, moat, drawbridge, towers, +bastions, donjon-keep and banqueting-hall +complete. A brass band—the members +in full uniform of bright colors, with +little rimless red-and-gold caps—is playing +under the battlemented garden-wall +which backs the sands in one place. +Listen to the tunes! Heard you ever +these peculiar airs before? The "Bells +of Aberdovey" jangle their sweet chime +over the wind-blown scene. The "March +of the Men of Harlech" fills all the air +with its stirring scarlet strain. The quaint +melody of "Hob y deri dando" moves +the feet of youth to restlessness: not that +it is a jig, in spite of the jiggy look of the +words to English eyes, but because it has +been twisted into the service of Terpsichore +by a famous band-master in his +"Welsh Lancers." "Hob y deri dando" +is a love-song:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>All the day I sigh and cry, love,</p> + <p class="i6">Hob y deri dando!</p> + <p>All the night I say and pray, love,</p> + <p class="i6">Hob y deri dando!<sup>*</sup></p> +</div> +</div> + +<p class="note"> +* This phrase is sometimes supposed to be the original +of the English "Hey down, derry, derry down!" +but the old Druidic song-burden, "Come, let us hasten +to the oaken grove," is in Welsh "Hai down ir +deri dando," which is nearer the English phrase.</p> + +<p> +A hand-organ with monkey attachment +is delighting a group of children on another +part of the sands. Yonder, too, is +a balladist with a guitar, bawling at the +top of his lungs,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>The dream 'as parst, the spell his broken,</p> + <p class="i2">'Opes 'ave faded one by one:</p> + <p>Th' w'isper'd words, so sweetly spoken,</p> + <p class="i2">Hall like faded flow'rs har gone.</p> + <p>Still that woice hin music lingers,</p> + <p class="i2">Loike er 'arp 'oose silver strings,</p> + <p>Softly swep' by fairy fingers,</p> + <p class="i2">Tell of hunforgotten things.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<p> +Nobody pays much attention to this wandering +minstrel: he is happy if at the close +of his song a penny finds its way into +the battered hat he extends for largess. +He is clearly a stranger to this part of +the world, and has probably tramped +down here from London by easy stages, +and will have to tramp back again as he +came, without much profit from his provincial +tour.</p> +<p> +The fashionable world which is sunning +itself on the sands is made up, for +the most part, of the usual types of a +British watering-place—the pea-jacketed +swell with blasé manner and one-eyed +quizzing-glass; the occasional London +cad in clothes of painful newness +and exaggeration of style, such as no +gentleman by any chance ever wears in +Britain; the young sprig of nobility with +effeminate face and "fast" inclinations, +who smokes a cigarette and ogles the +girls, and utters sentiments of profound +ennui in a light boyish tenor voice. He +is the son of an English nobleman who +has a Welsh estate, upon which he passes +a portion of his time, and can trace his +lineage back to one of the Norman adventurers +who came over with William +the Conqueror. For an example of an +older aristocracy than this, however, observe +the ancient couple sitting near us +in the shadow of a cliff-rock, the wife +with a high-bridged nose and puffs of +gray hair on her temples, the husband +with an easy-fitting hat and a coat-collar +which rolls so high as to give the impression +he has no neck. These are aristocrats +who, although untitled and owners +only of a few modest acres back in Carmarthenshire, +descend from ancestors +that looked down on William the Conqueror +as a plebeian upstart.</p> + +<a name="page194" id="page194"></a><span class="left">[page 194]</span> +<p> +There are bathers in the surf, but they +are so far away from the throngs on this +vast plain of beach that they are as unindividual +as if they were puppets. One's +most intimate friend could not be recognized +without the aid of a glass. The +bathing-machines, which serve in lieu +of the huts common at American seaside +resorts, are merely huts on wheels +instead of huts in stationary rows. They +are cared for by women, who escort you +to the door of an untenanted hut, collect +sixpence and retire. You enter, and disrobe +at your leisure. The machine proves +to be a snug box lighted by one little unglazed +window not large enough for you +to put your head through, and having a +solid shutter. If you close this shutter the +box is as dark as night, for it is well built, +with hardly a crevice in wall or roof or +floor. A small and very bad looking-glass +hangs on the wall, and there is +a bench to sit on: that is the extent of +the furniture. You have been provided +with towels and with the regulation +bathing-dress for men—linen breeches, +to wit. While you are contemplating this +garment and questioning of your modesty +as to the propriety of donning it, +there is a sound of rattling iron outside, +and a tap on your door as a warning +that your machine is about to start. The +machine is dragged in lumbering fashion +out into the sea by an antediluvian horse +with a small boy astride, and there the boy +unhitches the traces from the machine +and goes ashore, leaving you with the +waves breaking on the steps before your +door. You peep out dubiously. A shoal +of naked-shouldered men are swimming +and splashing in the surf. Some fifty +yards away is another school of bathers, +whose back hair betrays their sex, and +who are clad in garments made like +those worn by feminine bathers at Long +Branch, etc. There is no commingling +of the sexes in the water, as our American +custom is, but on the score of modesty +I must confess to a prejudice in favor +of the American plan, nevertheless. +The British theory evidently presumes +that men have no modesty among themselves. +Custom regulates these matters, +I suppose. I have never felt disposed +to blush for my naked feet and arms +while conversing with a lady on the +beach at Long Branch, being snugly +clad from head to foot in a flannel costume. +But I confess to a shrinking sense +of the incompleteness of the prescribed +fig-leaves as I stand in the door of the +bathing-machine at Tenby. To cover +myself with the water as quickly as possible +appears to be the only remedy, +however, and I take a header from the +doorsill. Ugh! The water is like ice! +To one accustomed to the warm American +bathing-suit the linen substitute +of Tenby is a most insufficient protection. +At home I have on occasion extended +the revels of the surf for a full +hour, being a pretty strong swimmer and +exceedingly fond of the exercise. I get +enough at Tenby in precisely two minutes, +and hasten to don my customary +clothing. Nevertheless, it is contended +that the surf at Tenby is pleasant for +bathers as late as Christmas, and I am +told there really are Britons who bathe +daily in the sea here quite up to the +first snow. It is certain that the fashionable +season does not end till November, +and some stay straight on through +the winter.</p> +<p> +Among the lions of Tenby none is +more interesting than St. Catharine's +Island, a great rugged hill of solid limestone +almost devoid of verdure and rent +into innumerable fissures, with a succession +of dark romantic coves and caverns +and jagged projecting crags fringing its +sides completely round. At high tide this +islet is separated from the mainland by a +deep rolling sea. At low tide its shores +are left dry by the receding waters. It +is a curious sight to watch this daily advance +and retreat of the sea. To see the +tides of ocean come and go is no novelty, +but it becomes a novelty under circumstances +like these, where every day +a dry bridge of yellow sand is stretched +forth from the islet to the mainland, +across which a stream of humanity pours +the moment the path is clear. At first +only one person at a time can pass. +Ten minutes later the sand-bridge is a +broad road. Ten later, and all Tenby +might cross in a crowd. There is an iron<a name="page195" id="page195"></a><span class="left">[page 195]</span> +staircase built up the rocky face of the +islet, winding about among its crags and +fissures, and the isle is overrun with people +during the time the tide is out. It +has many attractions. The view is grand +from those heights. Yawning gulfs fascinate +you to look dizzily down into the +secret heart of the isle. On the highest +point of rock stood, a few years ago, +an ancient chapel which had in Roman +Catholic days been dedicated to St. Catharine. +Within the past six years this chapel +has given way to a fortress, its walls +partly embedded in the solid rock. The +people who throng to the islet between +tides roam about, loiter with breeze-blown +garments on the stairs and landings, peer +into the fortress, or, perching themselves +in the sheltered nooks which are innumerable +among the crags, sit and sew, +read, chat, make love and watch the +pygmy bathers in the sea far down below. +As long as the tide is low the +tenants of the islet are safe to remain, +but as soon as it turns those who are +wise begin to gather up their things and +clear out. Now and then incautious ones +get caught; and then there are screaming, +hurrying and a terrible fright, especially +if the trapped ones are of the +gentler sex, and still more especially if +their proportions are ample. Such women +are, as a rule, the cowardliest. +Probably, they feel their amplitude a +disadvantage in moments of peril, and +know emotions which their scrawnier +sisters escape. A case in point greets +us this morning as we stand watching +the rising of the tide. A roly-poly woman +of forty or so is caught on the islet +by the closing of old Ocean's drawbridge. +She is a fair being with dark hair and +eyes, a sweet smile, a clear complexion, +and some two hundred and fifty pounds +avoirdupois, richly dressed, pleasant-mannered, +and in all respects no doubt +a lady to be admired and loved, as well +as respected, in the social circle. But at +present she is at a sad disadvantage. I +noticed her a few minutes ago at the top +of the iron staircase, and said to myself +that she would have just time enough to +come down, for there was an isthmus of +sand some twenty feet wide as yet to be +obliterated by the crawling tide. A quickly-tripping +foot would have accomplished +it, but the fair-fat-and-forty lady occupied +one whole minute in coming down. +Now that she has reached the bottom +step there is a wide wash of sea between +her and the mainland, and she +raises her hands in horror. How is she +to get over? There is no boat in sight. +Shall she wade? There is a nervous +motion of her fat white hands in the +direction of her gaiters, but she hesitates. +The woman who hesitates is lost: +the water grows deeper and deeper every +instant; in ten minutes it will be +over her head. A bathing-machine boy +comes trotting his horse through the water, +and, backing up by the rock on which +the distressed lady stands, bids her get +on. Get on the back of a horrid bathing-horse! +behind the back of a horrid +boy! Had she been a sylph the prospect +would have been most untempting, +but a two-hundred-and-fifty-pounder! +Nevertheless, the unhappy fair one begins +to prepare for the sacrifice with grief +and consternation in her face. "How +can I do it?" her trembling lips whisper, +and she looks about her on the rocks as +if to say, "Oh, is there <i>no</i> other way out +of this wretched predicament?" The +boy, as he sits astride, is getting his feet +wet by this time: the horse will have to +swim for it presently. Still she hesitates, +and throws a shrinking glance over the +vast audience gathered on the sands silently +attentive—the band, the organ-grinder +and the balladist all breathlessly +awaiting the issue, no doubt feeling +that it would be mockery to indulge in +music at such a moment. Suddenly a +bare-headed and shirt-sleeved man is +seen to dash through the water, regardless +of danger and of wet trousers, who, +seizing the fat lady round the knees in +spite of her screams, dumps her on the +horse's back all in a heap. Saved! +saved! Such a giggling (for joy) has +seldom been seen to shake a large assemblage. +The emotion caused by the +spectacle of beauty in distress is no doubt +a pain to every masculine mind not hopelessly +vitiated by the cynical tendencies +of the age; but the pain produced by the<a name="page196" id="page196"></a><span class="left">[page 196]</span> +emotion of mirth at seeing a fellow-creature +at a ridiculous disadvantage is greater +when you feel bound not to laugh.</p> +<p> +There are four strange caves piercing +St. Catharine's Island completely through +from side to side. In rough weather the +storming of the sea through these extraordinary +tunnels creates a prodigious uproar. +When the weather is still it is possible +to take boat and sail quite through +one of them: at low tide you may walk +through. Marine zoological riches abound +in these caverns, which have been for +many years a real treasure-house for +naturalists. The walls are studded with +innumerable barnacles, dogwinkles and +other shells—not dead and empty, but +full of living creatures, requiring only +the return of the tide to awaken them +to an active existence. There are simply +myriads of them: a random stone +thrown against a wall will smash a whole +colony; and there are besides polyps and +sea-anemones and other strange animals +of eccentric habits in unusual abundance. +The visitors to Tenby find great diversion +in these and the other caves on the coast: +in fact, the whole coast as far as Milford +Haven is one succession of natural curiosities +and antiquities. One cavern +bears the name of Merlin's Cave, and +is hallowed by a legend of the enchanter, +who was born at Carmarthen in the +next county.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Wirt Sikes.</span></p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="p196" id="p196"></a> + +<h2>NOCTURNE.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>There'll come a day when the supremest splendor</p> + <p class="i2">Of earth or sky or sea,</p> +<p>Whate'er their miracles, sublime or tender,</p> + <p class="i2">Will wake no joy in me.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>There'll come a day when all the aspiration,</p> + <p class="i2">Now with such fervor fraught,</p> +<p>As lifts to heights of breathless exaltation,</p> + <p class="i2">Will seem a thing of naught.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>There'll come a day when riches, honor, glory,</p> + <p class="i2">Music and song and art,</p> +<p>Will look like puppets in a wornout story,</p> + <p class="i2">Where each has played his part.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>There'll come a day when human love, the sweetest</p> + <p class="i2">Gift that includes the whole</p> +<p>Of God's grand giving—sovereignest, completest—</p> + <p class="i2">Shall fail to fill my soul.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>There'll come a day—I will not care how passes</p> + <p class="i2">The cloud across my sight,</p> +<p>If only, lark-like, from earth's nested grasses,</p> + <p class="i2">I spring to meet its light.</p></div> + +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i32"><span class="sc">Margaret J. Preston.</span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page197" id="page197"></a><span class="left">[page 197]</span> + + + +<h2>THROUGH WINDING WAYS.</h2> + +<h4>CHAPTER IV.</h4> + +<p> +It was soon decided that I was to +set out for The Headlands the first +week in October. I had studied too +hard, and was growing so tall and slight +that Harry Dart used to draw caricatures +of me, taking me in sections, he declared, +since no ordinary piece of paper would +suffice for a full-length. I was glad of +a change, yet felt some sorrow about it +too. I knew nothing of what it was to +miss the warm home-life and the constant +companionship which had filled every +idle hour with ever-recurring pleasures. +I hated to part from my mother, +who had grown of late so inestimably +dear to me; I should miss the boys; +what could make up to me for Georgy? +I did not know that I was never again +to enjoy the old Belfield routine, with +all my untamed impulses making the +wild, free physical life full of deep and +passionate delight—never again to stand +the peer of all my mates, running the familiar +races, playing the familiar games. +I did not know what a changed life +awaited me, and I looked forward to +my opening vistas of a bright future +with longings inconceivably sweet.</p> +<p> +I reached The Headlands one fine +day in October a little past noon. Mr. +Raymond's carriage met me at the station, +and a grave elderly servant, who +told me his name was Mills, put me inside +and assumed all responsibilities concerning +my luggage. I had plenty of +time to remember with regret our homely, +pleasant life at Belfield, and recall +Thorpe's words when he heard that I +had been invited to The Headlands. "It +will be a glimpse of another life," he had +remarked with his usual air of consummate +knowledge of the world. "Even I, +who am used to living on terms of intimacy +with men of all ranks and positions, +find it difficult to adjust the balance +in that quiet, stately house, where everything +goes on oiled wheels."</p> +<p> +"But what makes it hard to get along?" +I had inquired with a sort of awe.</p> +<p> +"Oh, I can't describe it," he had returned +with a wave of his white hand, +"but you'll soon experience it for yourself."</p> +<p> +But as I went on and the great sea +opened before my eyes, I quite forgot my +fears in the pleasure of such wide horizons, +such magnificent scenery. The +ocean was here in all its grandeur, yet +there was no bleakness or bareness in +these rock-bound shores, softly veiled in +the haze of the October afternoon. The +voices of the breakers greeted me as +something vaguely familiar: I seemed +to have been listening for them all my +life. In such joys as I felt that day eyes +and ears do but little—imagination works +most wonders.</p> +<p> +I had not noticed, so raptly was I +watching the fleeting tints of opal, steel +and blue which chased each other along +the smooth slow waves, that we had entered +enclosed grounds, and when the +carriage stopped suddenly before a wide, +pillared portico I was wholly taken by surprise. +Mills opened the carriage-door, +and I got down with a blank, dreamy +feeling, and followed him up the steps +through the wide portal and along the +hall. He ushered me into the library, +and left me while he went to announce +my arrival.</p> +<p> +I sat perfectly still in the lofty Gothic +room. It was lined with books except +on the west side, where were long oriel +windows of stained glass, with figures +of saints glorious in blue and gold and +crimson and purple, with aureoles of +wonderful splendor above their beautiful +heads. The floor was of inlaid woods +polished until it shone, and over it was +laid a Persian carpet thick and soft as +moss. The chimney-piece was of wonderful +beauty, and extended into the +room, leaving a sort of alcove on each +side, and a low fire was burning in a<a name="page198" id="page198"></a><span class="left">[page 198]</span> +quaintly-designed grate. Over the mantel +hung a large picture which I did not +know, but which made my heart beat as +I looked: it was a copy of the Sistine +Madonna. In front of the fire was an +easy-chair piled with cushions, and beside +it a low stool, while on either hand +were painted screens: on one the field of +brilliant azure was strewn with flowers of +dazzling hues; the other was crossed by +a flight of birds of gorgeous plumage.</p> +<p> +I had looked at everything, had taken +in every surprise of beautiful form and +color: then my eyes were lifted again +to the windows, and I was gazing at the +meek saints with their shining raiment +and radiant hair when I was suddenly +recalled to a recollection of where I was +and why I was there. A hand pushed +aside the velvet curtain which hung +across the doorway—a child's hand—and +then a little girl entered, followed +by a greyhound as tall as herself. I rose +and stood waiting while she advanced, +the same sunshine which transfigured +the saints in the windows playing over +her white dress in brilliant rainbow tints.</p> +<p> +She was a very little girl, yet her large, +serious dark eyes and her lithe way of +carrying her slim height impressed me +with a sort of awe which I might not +have felt for a grown woman. When +she neared me she stood perfectly still, +regarding me silently with a deliberate +glance. She was very pale, with a complexion +like the inner leaves of a white +rose, but her eyes lent fire to a face otherwise +proud and cold. Her hair had +evidently been cut short, and curled +close to her head in loose brown curls. +When she had fairly taken me in she +held out her hand. "How do you do?" +she asked in a clear, deliberate voice. +"I am very glad to see you."</p> +<p> +"Did you expect me?" I inquired +shyly.</p> +<p> +"Of course we did," she answered +with some imperiousness, "or we should +not have sent the carriage and servants +to meet you."</p> +<p> +Then we were both silent again, and +went on mentally making up our minds +concerning each other.</p> +<p> +"Yes," she said presently, putting her +hand into mine again, "you look just as +I thought you did. I asked papa: he +said you had brown hair and gray eyes, +and that you were good-looking when +you smiled. And am I like what you +expected to see?"</p> +<p> +I did not know, I told her. In fact, +although I had heard much and thought +some about Helen, she had hitherto possessed +no personality for me except as +Mr. Floyd's little girl. And now she impressed +me differently from any person I +had ever seen before, and if I had formed +any previous conceptions, they all fled. +She seemed, I will confess, a haughty, +aristocratic little creature, with her slight +form and somewhat imperious look, her +deliberate, commanding voice and intense +eyes: still, I liked her at once. +Mr. Floyd had begged me to be kind +to her, and it seemed easy for me to +cherish and protect her: she appeared +to need being taken care of with both +strength and tenderness, for it was such +a fragile little hand I held, and, with all +its beauty, such a wan little face I looked +upon.</p> +<p> +"I hope you will like me, Helen," said +I bluntly, "for your father wants you to +enjoy my visit."</p> +<p> +She smiled for the first time. "I like +you very much already," she said in the +same distinct, melancholy voice; and +without more words she put up her little +face to mine and kissed me softly on my +lips. I was unused to caresses, and my +cheeks burned; but I followed her, at +her request, to the back lawn, where Mr. +Raymond was waiting to see me.</p> +<p> +"Grandfather is not strong," she explained, +"and we save him all the steps +we can. It is so sad to be old! Have +you a grandfather?"</p> +<p> +"No," I returned: "there is nobody +in our family but mother and me."</p> +<p> +"And I have got grandpa and papa +too," said she thoughtfully. "Only papa +is so busy: he is never here but a week +at a time."</p> +<p> +We had passed through the hall, crossed +the rear piazza and descended the +steps, and were advancing along the +grassplat toward a summer-house which +faced the sea. I could now for the first<a name="page199" id="page199"></a><span class="left">[page 199]</span> +time gain an idea of the extent and +grandeur of the place. The house towered +above us solemnly with its towers, +pillared arches, cornices and pediments, +while, beyond, the glass roofs of numberless +greenhouses lifted their domes +to the warm afternoon sun. All around +the lawn stood lofty trees, their foliage +glorious with crimson, russet and gold, +and their shadows crept stealthily toward +us as if they were alive. And beyond +house, lawns, gardens and tree-lined avenues +was a pine wood which extended +its solemn verdure all round the place, +enclosing it almost to the edge of the +bluff. All this on the right hand: on +the left the mysterious sea, whose music +filled the fair sunshiny world we two +children were traversing hand in hand.</p> +<p> +"There is grandpa," exclaimed Helen +as we neared the summer-house; and I +saw an old man sitting in an arm-chair +in the sunshine, looking eagerly toward +us as if in anxious expectation.</p> +<p> +"You were gone a long time, Helen," +he called out peevishly.</p> +<p> +"Oh no, dear," she replied soothingly. +"Here is Floyd, grandpa."</p> +<p> +He had looked, when I first saw him +from a distance, like a very old man, +but when I was shaking hands with him +I was surprised to discover that his face +had little appearance of age. Even his +thin dark hair was but sprinkled with +gray at the curly ends on the temples: +his eyebrows were a black silky thread, +his eyes dark and full of a peculiar glitter. +His features were finely formed and +feminine in their delicacy, but the expression +of his face was marred by the restlessness +of his eyes, and made almost pathetic +by the dejected, melancholy lines +about his thin scarlet lips.</p> +<p> +He shook hands with me gracefully, +and made inquiries about my journey, +then sank back into his chair listlessly, +and allowed Helen to pull the tiger-skin +which formed his lap-robe over his knees. +There was a peculiar feebleness about his +whole attitude as he sat—something almost +abased in the sinking of his chin +upon his breast. It was hard for me to +realize that he was the owner of all this +magnificence, and, dressed although he +was with faultless elegance, and although +luxurious appurtenances filled the summer-house, +waiting for his momentary +convenience, I was certain that his great +wealth brought him no pleasure, and that, +except for his little grandchild, he was +comfortless in the world. He was full +of complaints toward her. He was sure, +he said, that now when I had come she +would have no thought of him; that taking +care of an old man was a dreary and +thankless task; that only the young could +be beloved by the young. And her way +of listening and answering made me suspect +that she was but too used to such +querulousness. I was perhaps too young +to understand mainsprings of action, yet +nevertheless I seemed to know at once +that her calm, mature manner and precocious +imperiousness were the result of +his weakness and wavering, of his selfish +and morbid doubts.</p> +<p> +"You are older than I thought," Mr. +Raymond said to me, regarding me for +the first time with languid curiosity. "I +expected to see a velvet-coated little fellow +of Helen's size. What is your age, +my boy?"</p> +<p> +I told him I should be fifteen the next +spring, counting, as most young people +do, by the milestone ahead of me, instead +of the one I had passed.</p> +<p> +"Oh, that is quite an age," said he with +an air of relief. "Do not expect to make +a playmate of Mr. Floyd Randolph, Helen: +he is quite too old to care for a mere +child like yourself."</p> +<p> +"He is not nearly as old as papa." +returned Helen quickly, "and papa will +play with me all day long."</p> +<p> +"Yes, yes," said Mr. Raymond, sinking +back among his cushions and tiger-skins, +"all the world can play but me. +I must be content to sit outside the joy +and the sunshine. I have lived too +long. Only the young, bright people +of the world are welcome even to my +own little grandchild."</p> +<p> +Helen threw her arm about his neck +and stroked his cheek with her slim +hand. "You know, grandpa," she said +simply, "that I do not care for play, and +I love our quiet times together; but you +forget what Dr. Sharpe says—that I must<a name="page200" id="page200"></a><span class="left">[page 200]</span> +run about out of doors and be as merry +as I can, or else—"</p> +<p> +He stopped her with a quick, shuddering +gesture. "Oh no," said he, "I do not +forget. Do not make me out worse than +I am to Floyd, Helen." He rang a hand-bell +on the table by his side, and began +feebly to adjust the wrappings about his +shoulders.—"I will go in, Frederick," he +murmured to the servant, who advanced +at once as if he had been waiting close +by—"I will go in and sit by the fire.—Helen, +you must show Floyd the place.—There +are greenhouses, and the stables +are worth seeing too," he added to +me apologetically. "I hear that Robinson +has some rare fowls, and Helen has +dogs of all kinds, and a few deer. It +will do her good to go about, you know." +He broke off suddenly, a spasm crossing +his face, and without more words he turned +abruptly to his valet, took his arm and +walked feebly toward the house.</p> +<p> +We stood together looking after him—I +a little shy and perplexed in my new position, +Helen thoughtful and melancholy.</p> +<p> +"Poor grandpa!" she said presently +with a sigh: "he has only me, you know, +Floyd. He has nothing else in the whole +wide world, and it worries him to think +that he cannot be with me always, that +he cannot—"</p> +<p> +She broke off, and the small face twitched +as if she were about to cry, but she controlled +herself.</p> +<p> +The splendid house, with its gleaming +windows and stately pillars, the wide +grounds, the air of quiet magnificence +which reigned over the whole place, +had so much impressed me that I could +not resist uttering an exclamation at her +words. She spoke of Mr. Raymond as +having nothing in the wide world but +herself, yet he was rich enough to be +master of what appeared to me the +pomp of kings; and I told her so.</p> +<p> +She regarded me curiously. "Is grandpa +rich?" she asked. "He says sometimes +that the greenhouses cost so much +money that they will send him to the +poorhouse. I do not think grandpa can +be rich. But if he were rich," she cried +out indignantly, "that makes no difference: +he has nothing but me—nothing +to care about. There was poor grandmamma: +she died—oh so long ago!—and +my uncles died when they were little +boys not so old as I. And mamma—she +stayed the longest: then she died. +No, grandpa has nothing left but me."</p> +<p> +"Your father too: he has only you. I +wonder you do not live with your father, +Helen."</p> +<p> +She shook her head. "Oh, you don't +know," she returned. "I couldn't leave +grandpa. Oh, Floyd, if you knew how +it hurts me to tell papa that I must stay +here! He does not understand. He +will say, 'I want my little girl: you can't +guess how badly I want my little girl.'" +She finished with a great sob which shook +her from head to foot. I pitied her very +much, and I could easily comprehend +that she was too delicate still to be allowed +to have any sort of trouble. So +I asked her to go down to the shore with +me, and while we went I told her all the +funny things I could remember until I +made her laugh. She was quick and +sympathetic; and her spirit was so strong, +yet so repressed, that the moment she was +really glad it seemed to have the exuberance +of a bird's joy at freedom after imprisonment.</p> +<p> +I have reason, beyond that of mere admiration +for its admirable picturesqueness, +to remember and note down the +form of the shore at The Headlands. +The house stood on the highest part of +the promontory, and there was a gradual +descent to the end of the bluff, which +terminated in a line of black rocks, some +of which were firmly embedded in the +soil, while others lay piled above each +other as they had been tossed by some +horrible convulsion of the sea. In one +place there was a perpendicular precipice +of eighty feet, washed by the waves +at its base; but the beach was easily accessible +from every other point, although +in some places the descent needed sure +feet and agile limbs. But I had always +been the best climber in Belfield, and I +ran up and down the rocks now with the +ease of a monkey, until Helen begged +me not to terrify her by any new exploits. +Under the frowning citadel of +rocks the beach was particularly fine,<a name="page201" id="page201"></a><span class="left">[page 201]</span> +well pebbled below watermark and above +a strip of shining sand. The tide was +coming in with a strong dull roar, and +every wave broke on the shore with curling +cataracts of foam and a voice like +thunder. It was hard for me to realize +that above us on the headland the mild +October sunshine was gilding and reddening +the trees, for here we were in +shadow, and the cry of storm and the +din of tempest were in our ears. Yet beyond +the bar opaline tints were playing +along the sunlit sea, and the luminous, +shifting-hued swell of crested waves +merged into the iridescent sky. There +was a secret and a mystery about the +scene to me. I could not understand +its influence upon me, and felt under a +spell as I gazed at the distant white sails +and listened to the roar of the waves as +if I could never hear it enough.</p> +<p> +After Helen had shown me all the +strange, beautiful places of the beach, +I helped her up the precipitous bank, +where steps had been carefully cut in +the rock or laid upon the crumbling +sods. She took me to the stables, and +I saw the horses, her pony and the blooded +colt in training for her: her dogs had +followed us about, leaping and fawning +upon her and smelling suspiciously at +me. Mr. Raymond disliked animals, +and it was to the stables or the gardener's +cottage that the child came to +pet her hounds, her sheep-dog and her +snowy Pomeranian: not even Beppo, the +Italian greyhound, was domesticated at +the house. Some shy deer peered out +at us from their paddock, and a doe, +less timid than the rest, approached us +and gave me a good look out of her +meek, beautiful eyes. Gold and silver +pheasants lurked in the shrubberies, +and peacocks spread their tails and +paraded before us on the greensward. +Everything seemed to be Helen's, and +not a flower that bloomed or a bird that +flew but she gave it an ample tenderness.</p> +<p> +We did not talk much, but stood together +hand in hand, I gazing with ardent +delight and curiosity at all these +beautiful expressions of life which filled +the place.</p> +<p> +"Do you like it?" she inquired anxiously +from time to time, and when I +answered her gravely that I liked it, +she would smile a contented little smile. +She asked me if I rode, and carefully selected +the horse she considered suitable +for me, and gave the groom orders about +exercising him regularly. The man took +her instructions with a respectful air: she +was evidently mistress of the place, and +the centurion in the Gospel had not his +servants better under his command than +had she. It was a quaint sight to see the +child knitting her brows over some complaint +of Robinson's against McGill the +gardener: she settled it promptly with +but half a dozen words. She had energy +enough and to spare for her duties, but +she had nothing of that eager bubbling +up of light thoughts and bright hopes +which other children know and use in +endless chatter and playful gambollings, +like puppies and kittens and other happy +young things. There was always shrewd +purpose behind her few words, and she +seemed always on her guard, always ready +to act promptly and with decision.</p> +<p> +"Why don't you send those men to +Mr. Raymond?" I burst out finally. +"You ought not to be bothered. What +do you know about such things?"</p> +<p> +"I know all about them," she returned +gravely. "I never let anybody trouble +poor grandpapa."</p> +<p> +"My mother would not let anything +trouble me if she could help it, yet I am +a boy and almost fifteen years old."</p> +<p> +She looked at me wistfully and smiled +her peculiar indefinable smile, then put +her hand in mine, and we went toward +the house together. Just as night fell +dinner-time came. I had gone to my +room to dress at five o'clock, but finding +that all my windows looked out upon the +water, I had forgotten everything else in +watching the sea, which took hue after +hue as the sun sank, growing black and +turbid as it settled into a bank of gray +cloud, then, when the last beams reddened +every rift, lighting up into a brief +splendor of crimson and gold, absorbing +all the glory of the firmament. I felt rather +homesick and dreary. I knew that +in the dusky streets of Belfield the boys<a name="page202" id="page202"></a><span class="left">[page 202]</span> +were walking up and down beneath the +russet elms, wondering about me while +they talked. I knew that my mother +was sitting in the bay-window with the +light of the sunset in her face, and that +she was longing to have me with her +again. When, finally, I roused myself +to dress, and went along the dim halls +and down the great staircase lined with +niches where calm-faced statues stood +regarding me with a fixed and solemn +air, I was quite dull and dreary, and +needed all the cheerful influences of the +warmed and lighted rooms to brighten +me up.</p> +<p> +At dinner Mr. Raymond seemed more +what I had expected him to be than I +had found him at first sight. He was +dressed with scrupulous propriety, and +wore a ceremonious and precise air which +better accorded with his position as master +of the house. He talked well, and +asked me many questions about our life +in Belfield, made inquiries about George +Lenox, and was interested when I told him +about Georgina. And about Georgina I +found myself presently talking with a +freedom which amazed myself, for my +habits were reserved, and of all that I +felt and thought about Georgy I had +never yet said anything except to my +mother. But in this beautiful house, +which seemed so fitting a place for my +lovely princess, and which was of late the +object of her dreams, I felt moved to be +her ambassador and to plead her cause +as well as I might. I spoke not only of +her beauty and her cleverness, but of +the drawbacks to her success in life. I +anticipated criticism, and disarmed it. +"Oh, Helen!" I burst out at length, "you +would love her so dearly—I am sure you +would!"</p> +<p> +Helen's eyes were shining, and her +color came and went. "Oh, grandpa," +said she softly, "why may I not ask her +to come here? Floyd will like it, and +I—"</p> +<p> +She could not finish, she was so glad +and excited, and she ran around the +table and laid her cheek against Mr. +Raymond's shoulder in mute entreaty.</p> +<p> +"Oh, do whatever you please," rejoined +the old gentleman impatiently: +"you know very well that you must have +your own way in everything."</p> +<p> +The glad little face fell at once, and she +went back to her chair slowly and climbed +into it. It was a high-backed, crimson +velvet chair, with a footstool for the +child's feet to rest upon. She looked very +slight and young as she sat there, her +baby face thrown into clear outline and +startling pallor by the ruby-colored cushions. +She filled the place well, however, +helping to the soup and fish, and even +the meats after Mills had carved them at +the sideboard. I noticed too, with some +surprise, that the decanter of sherry stood +at her elbow, and was not passed, but +that she herself poured out Mr. Raymond's +glass of wine, and once replenished +it. He sent it to her to be filled +for the third time, but she shook her +head.</p> +<p> +"No, no, grandpa," she said with a +queer little smile: "you have had two +already."</p> +<p> +He looked angry, and affirmed that +she had given him but one glass, appealing +to Mills, who corroborated the +words of his young mistress. Helen +said no more, but gave the decanter +to the butler, who took it away, and I +heard him lock the door of the wine-closet +and saw him drop the key in his +pocket. Then, presently, when coffee +came on, Helen and I went into the +library, and left Mr. Raymond alone, +with his easy-chair turned toward the +fire. I knew that something in the house +was wrong, and experienced a vague humiliation +out of sympathy for Helen, but +what my fears were I did not name to +myself.</p> +<p> +"Promise me," said she, clasping my +hand suddenly—"promise me to say nothing +to papa. Remember that grandpa +is very old, and that he has nothing in +the world but me."</p> +<p> +I gave the promise eagerly, more to +avoid the subject than because I understood +as to what I was to be silent and +why the subject should be interdicted.</p> +<p> +"You see," said she, her clear eyes +meeting mine with their peculiarly wistful, +melancholy gaze, "this is why I cannot +go away. Papa thinks I do not love<a name="page203" id="page203"></a><span class="left">[page 203]</span> +him: he does not know that it would not +be safe for me to leave grandpa all alone. +If papa did know—"</p> +<p> +"You ought to tell your papa everything," +I said gravely.</p> +<p> +"I wish I could," she cried in a trembling +voice. "But I can't. He would +not let me stay here, and I could not go +away. You must never tell papa, Floyd—never!"</p> +<p> +I said I would not tell with the air of +one who never discloses a secret; and +she believed in me, and we were soon +bright and happy again, and wrote a +letter to Georgy Lenox inviting her to +The Headlands on a visit.</p> +<p> +With all his faults and weaknesses, I +soon found there were good and lovable +traits in Mr. Raymond. He had been in +early life a successful merchant, and the +habit of controlling widespread interests +had given him a broad and sympathetic +insight into men and their ideas. He +possessed a graceful and comprehensive +culture, and had embodied his conceptions +of the fitness of things in the arrangement +of his home, making it beautiful +in all ways. He was an old man +now, yet had not lost the thirst for knowledge, +and could talk, when inspiration +was upon him, generously and eloquently. +He had been a part of the busy great +world; he understood society and social +ways: all these talents and acquirements +made him a pleasant old gentleman when +at his best, but it needed only a touch of +suspicion or jealousy to put him at his +worst. It was easy enough to see that +Helen did not exaggerate when she told +me he had nothing to care for but herself; +and his care for her was so mixed +with morbid fears that he was not first +in her heart, so embittered by a distrust +of her love for her father, that she could +gain small comfort from all his overweening +devotion and pride.</p> +<p> +The child and I were constantly together +in those October days. I do not +think it would have been so but for the +fact that Mr. Floyd wrote daily concise +and peremptory orders that Helen was +to be out of doors from morning till night, +and that Dr. Sharpe, a brisk, keen-eyed +old gentleman, came every morning at +breakfast-time to feel the little girl's +pulse, order her meals and command +Mr. Raymond to let her have all the +play she could get before the cold weather +came.</p> +<p> +"You see," Helen would explain to +me as we tramped the meadows and +the uplands gorgeous with every mellow +hue of autumn's glorious time—"you +see, Floyd, I was going to die in +September when papa came. Oh, I felt +so tired I wanted just to go to sleep. But +papa came, took me in his arms and held +me there. Whenever I woke up, there +he was, his strong arms holding me tight. +He wouldn't let me go, you know, so I +couldn't die. I couldn't have lived for +grandpa: I knew that he would die too, +and that perhaps it would all be best."</p> +<p> +"But now you are getting strong," I +said: "your cheeks are quite rosy now."</p> +<p> +"Oh yes," she answered. "I like to live +now. I love you so dearly, Floyd, and I +have such good times."</p> +<p> +I loved her dearly too, after a boy's +fashion. It was easy for me to talk to +her, and I told her many things that lay +near my heart and far from my tongue—much +about my mother and my worship +of her—about our home and its +surroundings—about my father and my +brother Frank, and my grief when they +died. I had never expected to tell any +one these memories, but I told them all +to Helen.</p> +<p> +One day we came in a little later than +usual. We had carried our luncheon +down to the beach, and had eaten it +there: we had never been quite so happy +together before, for everything had +conspired to make our enjoyment perfect. +We had made up stories about the +people on board the ships that went up +and down in the offing; strange and +beautiful things had looked at us from +out the sea; a fisherman had offered us +some oysters as he coasted about the bar +in his boat, and I had bought some and +opened them for Helen with my knife, +every blade of which I broke in the effort. +Altogether, we had had a blissful +experience.</p> +<p> +But as, upon returning, we neared the +house, Mills met us on the terrace with<a name="page204" id="page204"></a><span class="left">[page 204]</span> +a grave face. "You'd better go to your +grandfather, Miss Floyd," said he—"you +had, indeed, or it will be all over with +him. You must not blame me, miss—it +was none of my fault—but some gentlemen +came here for lunch, and he's been +a-drinking and a-drinking ever since they +went away, and will not let either decanter +go out of his hand."</p> +<p> +Helen's little face had been warm with +color, but it froze into pallor while I looked +at her. We entered the door, and she +took off her things slowly and gave them +to Mills, smoothing her hair mechanically +with her little trembling hands.</p> +<p> +"What shall I do?" I whispered, quaking +as much as she. "Let me help you +somehow, Helen."</p> +<p> +"You can't," she returned quietly: "nobody +can help me."</p> +<p> +She bade Mills go about his work: then +went into the dining-room and shut the +door.</p> +<p> +The man had tears in his eyes as he +turned to me as soon as we were alone. +"I declare, Mr. Randolph," said he, "it's +enough to break anybody's heart to see +that child a-bowed down at her age with +the care of an old man who can't be kept +from drunkenness unless her eye is on +him every minute."</p> +<p> +"Is he violent when he's—" I tried to +ask the question, but could not form the +horrible word upon my tongue.</p> +<p> +Mills did not flinch from facts. "When +he's drunk?" he said. "He is ready to +break my head, but he's never anything +but tender with her. She's naught but a +baby, but I have seen him, in a regular +fury, just fall a-whimpering when she +came in and said, 'Oh, grandpa! oh, +grandpa! I'm so sorry!' Oh, it is a burning +shame! And to think that that splendid +gentleman, her father, does not know +it!"</p> +<p> +"He ought to know it," I cried.</p> +<p> +"And if he did, sir," said Mills solemnly, +"he would take Miss Floyd away, and +the old gentleman would drink himself +to death, and that would kill the little girl +too. It's hard to see the right of it, Mr. +Randolph. But," he added with a complete +change of manner, "she would be +vexed to see me stand gossiping here."</p> +<p> +He went up stairs with the cloak and +hat, smoothing them with his big hand +as if to comfort somebody in need of +comfort. I stole across the hall and +stood at the dining-room door, wishing +to go in, yet fearing to vex Helen by +my intrusiveness. She opened the door +presently, as if she knew I was there, and +beckoned me, and I entered. The old +man sat at the table in his usual place, +looking half defiant and half ashamed. +She had removed both decanters and +glasses to the sideboard, and stood by +him with her arm about his neck, urging +him to go into the library, kissing him +now and then softly on the forehead.</p> +<p> +"What do you think, Floyd," he said +to me in a thick, unnatural voice—"what +do you think of the way my only grandchild +treats me? She despises me."</p> +<p> +"No, no, grandpa! I love you dearly."</p> +<p> +He went on with vehemence: "A few +years ago I was living among the finest +ladies and gentlemen in the world: I was +admired and sought. I have been called +the most accomplished of hosts, the most +perfect of gentlemen. Look about this +house. Where in this entire country will +you find a more liberal patron of the arts +than I? Yet this little girl treats me like +a servant. For a year she has not permitted +me to have even a few friends to +dine with me. Because to-day I extended +hospitality to half a dozen gentlemen +who drove over from the Point, she fumes +at me: she treats me as if I had committed +a deadly sin.—By and by, Miss Floyd, +you can have it all your own way here: +I shall be dead."</p> +<p> +She never flinched, nor did her face +change as he glared at her, but she went +on smoothing his hair and softly putting +her lips to his temples. "Dear grandpa," +said she, "come into the library now. It +is getting late, and Mills wants to set the +table for dinner."</p> +<p> +"Very well," he exclaimed with a sort +of petulant dignity, and, pushing back his +chair, half rose. Helen gave me a swift +glance, and with our united strength we +barely kept him from falling on his face. +He staggered to his feet, looking at us +angrily, and not releasing our hold we +steadied him into the library and seated<a name="page205" id="page205"></a><span class="left">[page 205]</span> +him in the great chair before the fire. +He sank down with some inaudible exclamation +not unlike a groan, and in five +minutes he had fallen asleep with loud +breathings. Helen rang the bell and told +Mills to send for Dr. Sharpe, then came +back and drew two low seats opposite +the sleeper, and we sat down together +hand in hand. She was as pale as death, +and her great eyes dilated as she gazed +steadily at her grandfather. From time +to time she felt his pulse and looked with +painful scrutiny at the temples and forehead, +which grew every moment more +and more crimson. The half hour before +the doctor came appeared to me +endless. Inside it was almost dark but +for the firelight, and outside the twilight +glooms slowly gathered: a storm was +coming on, and the waves bellowed +against the rocks. Mills lit the candles +and drew the curtains, but could +not shut out the roar of the angry sea. +I could see that Helen was miserably +anxious, but she said nothing, only sighed +and set her lips tight against each +other, and seemed to listen. Presently +we could hear the gravel crunched under +a horse's hoofs outside, then the +sound of wheels, and in another moment +Dr. Sharpe came in.</p> +<p> +"How is this?" said he without any +salutation. "Somebody to lunch, eh? +—— luncheons! Where were you, Miss +Chicken?"</p> +<p> +"I am so sorry!" she faltered painfully. +"But I was playing down on the +beach, and I did not know. You told +me to play about out of doors, doctor—you +know you did," she added deprecatingly.</p> +<p> +"Of course I told you to play about out +of doors. You need it bad enough, God +knows! Now run away, both of you."</p> +<p> +"Is there any danger?" she whispered.</p> +<p> +"Not a bit," said Dr. Sharpe, adding, +under his breath, "A good thing for her +if there were.—Run away, I say," he said, +hustling us both out of the door, "and +send Mills and Frederick here."</p> +<p> +We were shut away from the dim luxurious +library with its blazing fire, and the +old man asleep before it, but we did not +feel free to move, and stood awed and +speechless outside, listening and waiting. +Helen, who had been so brave, +gave way now: her face was piteously +convulsed and the tears streamed down +her cheeks. I made clumsy attempts to +soothe her, and finally took her in my +arms and carried her into the great lighted +drawing-room and laid her on the sofa. +She uttered nothing of her impotent childish +despair, but I could read well enough +her humiliation and her shame. Mills +came in presently and whispered to me +that dinner was ready. She heard him +and sprang up with the air of a baby +princess. "I will come to dinner in five +minutes, Mills," said she imperiously: +then, when she met the honest sympathy +of his glance, she ran up to him and +thrust her little slim hand into his. "I +trust you, Mills," she murmured, her +lips quivering again, "but you must never +let papa know and never let the servants +suspect." And presently, with the +outward indifference of a woman of the +world, the child took her place at table +and entertained me through dinner with +an account of what we should do for +Georgy Lenox.</p> + + +<h4>CHAPTER V.</h4> + +<p> +For Georgy was coming next day, and +in spite of my unhappiness on Helen's +account I woke up the following morning +with my pulses all astir with joy. +It would be something for me to have +her here, away from her mother, who always +frowned upon me—away from Jack, +whose claim upon her time and attention +made mine appear presumptuous and intrusive—away +from Harry Dart, with his +teasing jokes, his wholesale contempt for +any weakness or romantic feeling. I had +never declared to myself that I was in +love with Georgina, nor had I formed +my wishes to my own heart in distinct +thoughts. Still, young although I was, +I should hardly dare to write down here +how far above every other idea and object +on earth Georgina appeared to me. +I never thought of her then, I never looked +upon her, without the blood thickening +around my heart as if I stood face to<a name="page206" id="page206"></a><span class="left">[page 206]</span> +face with Fate: my every impulse toward +the future was blended with my +desire to be something to her. I had +not dared to dream then that she could +be anything to me.</p> +<p> +Before I was out of bed that morning, +Frederick, Mr. Raymond's valet, +came to me with the request that I should +go to his master's room before I went +down stairs. It was in the wing, and +the third chamber of a handsome suite +comprising study, dressing-room and +bedroom. It was hung and curtained +with red; a wood-fire was burning on +the hearth; the chairs were covered with +red; even the silken coverlet of the bed +was red, and the only place where living, +brilliant color was not seemed to be the +pale shrunken face on the pillow, a little +paler and more delicate than usual: +the hands, too, clutching each other on +the red blanket, had a look of languor +and waste.</p> +<p> +"Good-morning, Floyd," Mr. Raymond +said, and then dismissed Frederick.</p> +<p> +"But you ought not to talk, sir," expostulated +the valet, "until you have had +your breakfast."</p> +<p> +The sick man made a gesture for him +to leave the room, watched him go out, +and then fastened his piercing black +eyes on me and looked at me long and +fixedly. "You saw me yesterday?" said +he at last, breaking the silence.</p> +<p> +I nodded, finding it a difficult task to +speak.</p> +<p> +"Are you a babbling child?" said he +with considerable force and earnestness, +"or have you enough of a man's knowledge +to have learned to respect the infirmities +of other men?"</p> +<p> +"I tell no one's secrets, sir: they are +not mine to tell."</p> +<p> +He quite broke down, and lay there +before me strangling with sobs and cries. +"Should Mr. Floyd know," he murmured, +"should Mr. Floyd even guess, that +I am the wretched wreck of a man +that I am, he would not let Helen stay +with me another moment. He would +extenuate, he would pity, nothing: he +does not know what it is for a man like +me, once proud, witty, gay, to bear seclusion +and depression and decay. I +long at times for some of the inspiration +of my youth: it comes with a terrible +penalty."</p> +<p> +I could believe it, for his face expressed +such abasement and despair as I had +never dreamed of.</p> +<p> +"I know," he continued, his voice +broken and husky, "that I shadow Helen's +life. I know that if I had died last +night she would be a luckier girl to-day +than she is now. But I sha'n't last long, +Floyd. Put your finger on my pulse."</p> +<p> +I did so, and was obliged to grope for +the uncertain, slow beating at his wrist. +It seemed as if so little life was there +it might easily flicker and go out at any +moment.</p> +<p> +"I may die at any time," said he, putting +my unspoken thought into words. +"Dr. Sharpe tells me not to count on the +morrow. What cruelty it would be, then, +to deprive me of my grandchild! What +could I do without her? What would become +of me, living alone, with no company +but the gibbering shapes mocking +at me out of the corners?" He cowered +all in a heap and looked up at me with +clasped hands. "Let her stay," he went +on imploringly. "It is only for a little +while, and then everything will be hers—this +house and these grounds, my +house in New York and blocks of stores, +all my pictures, my statues, my books. +Why, I tell you, Floyd, I am worth more +than a million of dollars in invested +property that brings me in a return of +ten per cent. It is all for her. I save half +my income every year to buy new mortgages +and stocks, that she may be the +richer. I think," he exclaimed with a +sudden burst of feeling, "that such wealth +as I shall give her might atone for a great +deal. Remember, Floyd, it is only a little +while that I shall burden her: let her +stay."</p> +<p> +He was pleading with me as if I were +the arbiter of his fate. He had grasped +my arm, and his glittering eyes were fastened +on me with the intensity of despair +in their expression.</p> +<p> +"Why, Mr. Raymond," said I gently, +"I have nothing to do with Helen's going +or staying. If you fear that I shall +inform Mr. Floyd about what—what<a name="page207" id="page207"></a><span class="left">[page 207]</span> +happened yesterday, you do me injustice. +I shall tell him nothing. I have +no right to say a word about anything +that takes place in your house."</p> +<p> +"You are a good boy," said Mr. Raymond, +with an expression of relief relaxing +his convulsed features. "I do not +wonder that James loves you as his own +son—that it is the wish of his heart that +you should grow up with Helen, learn to +love her, and marry her at last."</p> +<p> +I listened doubtfully: it did not occur +to me that his words had any foundation +in fact; yet, all the same, the newly-suggested +idea burdened me. "I think you +are mistaken," said I gently. "Nothing +of that kind could ever possibly happen."</p> +<p> +"Not for years—not until I am dead," +returned Mr. Raymond peevishly. "It +was nothing—nothing at all. All that +occurred I will tell you, since I was foolish +enough to speak of it in the first +instance. James said he wanted Helen +to be much with you. 'You know how +those childish intimacies end,' I replied +to him—'in deep attachment and desire +for marriage.'—'I ask nothing better for +Helen,' James exclaimed. 'She will grow +up like other girls, and love, and finally +become a wife; and if she became +Floyd's wife I should have no fears for +her.'" Mr. Raymond's eyes met mine. +"You will never tell Mr. Floyd I spoke +of this to you," he said under his breath. +"I am not quite myself this morning, or +I should not have suggested a thought of +it to you."</p> +<p> +I was very sure that I should never +mention it, for I found the idea of my +marrying Helen so painfully irksome +that it went with me all the day, casting +a shadow across our intercourse. I +told myself over and over that the idea +was absurd—that such a thing could +never, never come to pass. She was so +mere a child. I studied her face with its +baby contours, where nothing showed +the dawn of womanhood yet except the +great melancholy eyes; I took her hand +in mine, where it lay like a snowflake on +my brown palm; and I laughed aloud +at the grotesqueness of the fancy that I +should ever put a ring on that childish +finger.</p> +<p> +"Why do you laugh?" she asked me +wonderingly.</p> +<p> +"To think," I rejoined, "how funny +it is to remember one day you will be +grown up and have rings upon your +fingers."</p> +<p> +"Is that funny?" she asked. "Of +course, if I live I shall grow up and +be a woman. My mamma was married +when she was only seventeen, and +in seven years I shall be seventeen." I +dropped her hand as if it had stung me. +"I have all mamma's rings," she went +on: "I have a drawerful of trinkets that +mamma used to wear. When Georgy +Lenox comes I shall give her a locket +and a chain that are so very, very pretty +they will be just right for her. Tell +me more about her, Floyd."</p> +<p> +It was easy enough for me to grow +eloquent in talking of Georgina, and +Helen was as anxious to hear as I to +tell. The little girl had had few friends +of her own sex and age: every summer +had brought the New York and Boston +Raymonds to The Headlands, and when +the neighboring watering-place was in its +season numerous flounced and gloved little +misses had been introduced to the shy, +quaint child, who felt strange and dreary +among them all. In fact, the little heiress's +position, so unique in every respect, +had isolated her from the joys of commonplace +childhood, and she found more +companionship in her dumb pets, in the +sumptuous silence of the blossoming gardens, +in the voices of the shore, than +among girls of her own age with their +chatter about their teachers or governesses, +their dancing-steps and their +games. Nevertheless, she was both ardent +and affectionate, and ready to love +all the world; and no sooner had Georgy +appeared than she lavished upon her +all the passion of girlish fondness for +her own sex which had hitherto lain +dormant within her. Georgy had always +been used to adulation and to lead others +by her capricious will and her radiant +smile, and within a day after her coming +had established almost a dangerous supremacy +over the child. It was at once +fascinating and disappointing to be under +the same roof with Georgy: every<a name="page208" id="page208"></a><span class="left">[page 208]</span> +morning when I awoke it seemed a miracle +of happiness that I had but to dress +and go out of my room to have a chance +of meeting her, of perpetually recurring +smiles and conversation such as I had +never enjoyed before at Belfield. But +the reality never bore out the promise +of my vague but delicious reveries. Mr. +Raymond at once took an active, almost +virulent, dislike to his young guest, and +pointed out her faults to me with clear +and concise words, each one of which +pierced me like a rapier; and the certainty +of his condemnation gave me a +keen, and at times almost inspired, vision +for her weaknesses.</p> +<p> +Nothing could exceed her rapture at +being in the beautiful house which she +had so long wished to see, and which +she loudly asserted a thousand times +surpassed all her expectations. And +she fitted admirably into her costly surroundings: +the sheen of her golden hair +made the dark velvet cushionings and +hangings a more beautiful background +than before; she gave expression to the +stately, silent rooms; and what had at +first been almost, despite its luxury, a +desert to me, became a fairy land. Little +Helen was so burdened with possessions +that it was a pleasure for her to give +them away. Still, I wished that Georgy +had not been so willing to accept all +that the lavish generosity of the child +prompted her to offer. But Georgy was +no Spartan: she wanted everything that +could minister to her comfort. She was +a natural gourmand, hungry for sweets +and fruits all day long: she coveted ornaments, +and found Helen's drawer of +trinkets almost too small for her; she liked +velvets and furs, silks and plushes, and +wore the child's clothes until Mr. Raymond +sent his housekeeper to Boston to +purchase her a complete outfit of her +own. But all these faults I could have +pardoned in Georgy, and ascribed them +to her faulty education and false influences +at home, had she been grateful to +little Helen.</p> +<p> +"She hates Helen for being luckier +than herself," Mr. Raymond affirmed: +"she would do her a mischief if she +could."</p> +<p> +I could not believe that, yet I could +see that she loved to torture the child, +whose acute sensibilities made her suffer +from the slightest coldness or suspicion.</p> +<p> +"If you really loved me, Helen," +Georgy would say, "you would do this +for me;" and sometimes the task would +be to slight or openly disobey Mr. Raymond, +to outrage me or to make one of +the dumb, loving pets which filled the +place suffer. And if at sight of the +child's tears I remonstrated, I was punished +as it was easy enough for Georgy +Lenox to punish me.</p> +<p> +She would melt Helen too by drawing +a picture of her own poverty and state +of dreary unhappiness beside the good +fortune of the heiress, until the little girl +would search through the house to find +another present for her, which she besought +her beautiful goddess almost on +her knees to accept. All these traits, +which showed that Georgina was far +from perfect, caused me a misery proportionate +to my longing to have her all +that was lovely and excellent. It is indeed +unfair to write of faults which are +so easy to portray, and to say nothing +of the beauty of feature and charm of +manner, which might have been enough +to persuade any one who looked into her +face that she was one of God's own angels. +What does beauty mean if it be +not the blossoming of inner perfection +into outward loveliness? And Georgina +Lenox was beautiful to every eye. Let +every one who reads my story know and +feel that she had the beauty which can +stir the coldest blood—the eyes whose +look of entreaty could melt the most +implacable resolution—the smile which +could lure, the voice which could make +every man follow.</p> + + + + +<h4>CHAPTER VI.</h4> + +<p> +Mr. Floyd had again entered upon +active life in Washington, and his duties +were so absorbing that it was almost impossible +for him to find any opportunity +of joining me at The Headlands, as he +had promised. But just as my visit was<a name="page209" id="page209"></a><span class="left">[page 209]</span> +drawing to an end he came, and kept +me on for the week of his stay. I had +become used to the routine of life at Mr. +Raymond's, and had again and again +wondered if Mr. Floyd's presence there +would make any difference; but the +change in the entire aspect of the household +after the advent of my guardian absolutely +startled me. Mr. Raymond was +again master of the house, and little Helen +was left free of all care and responsibility. +There seemed a tacit understanding +between Mills and the child and her +grandfather that Mr. Floyd was to gain +not the faintest idea of the usual state +of things. Mr. Raymond wore a dignity +which was not without its pathetic +side: he no longer touched wine, although +a different vintage was offered +with every course, and his selfish, peevish +ways seemed entirely forgotten. Helen +had grown steadily stronger every +week of my stay, and now that her father +was with her she rallied at once into +a happy, careless state of mind which +made her almost as light-hearted a +child as one could wish. She had none +of Georgy's gay boisterousness, but her +blitheness of heart seemed like a lambent +fire playing over profound depths +of gladness and security.</p> +<p> +Mr. Floyd was scarcely well pleased +to find Georgy at The Headlands, and +at once observed with solicitude the influence +she had gained over his little +girl. Georgy's idea of power was to put +her foot on the neck of her subjects and +hold them at her mercy; and Mr. Floyd +showed his displeasure at her course by +at once withdrawing Helen almost entirely +from her society. Georgy rebelled +defiantly at this; and I too felt keenly +the injustice of leaving her so utterly +alone as we did day after day when Mr. +Floyd, Helen and I went riding through +the woods together. Directly after breakfast +my guardian and I mounted our +horses, and Helen her pony, and off we +started for the hills, where the keen autumn +winds would put color into the little +girl's pale cheeks. Far below us we +could see the curving reaches of beach +and promontory, the sparkling fall of +the low surf, and in the offing the white-winged +ships bringing all the wonders of +the East and the richness of the tropics +to our barren New England shores. What +wonder if I have never forgotten a single +incident of those too swiftly succeeding +days? The glow, the enthusiasm, +the wild gush of free, untrammelled enjoyment, +were to go from me presently, +and to return no more.</p> +<p> +When Mr. Floyd first came he had +shaken me roughly by the shoulder, +laughing in my face as he told me he +had just come from Belfield, where he +had spent six hours with my mother. I +felt ashamed to look him in the eyes +when I remembered my interference, +and I began to debate the question in +my own mind whether I had not better +yield my boyish whim of pride and exclusive, +domineering affection to this noble, +splendid gentleman, whom I loved +better and better every day.</p> +<p> +The week appointed for his visit at +The Headlands had almost passed. It +was a Thursday morning, and we were +to set out early the ensuing day, when +he asked me to walk with him an hour on +the bluff, as he had something to speak +to me about. It was a lovely day: the +fogs were rolling off the water, and disclosed +a sea of chrysoprase beneath.</p> +<p> +"In my old courting-days," began Mr. +Floyd at once, "I used to walk here with +Alice. We were engaged six weeks, and +looking back now eleven years the days +seem all like this. It was the Indian +summer-time."</p> +<p> +I was dumb, but stared into his face, +which showed emotion, and pressed his +arm bashfully.</p> +<p> +"I was thirty-four when I first met +her," he went on, "and she was just +half my age. She was an heiress and +I was poor, yet the world called me no +bad match for her. Still, I felt as if I +could not marry a rich woman: I went +away, and tried to forget her, but stole +back to the Point, hoping to get one +glimpse of her sweet face by stealth. +Then when I saw her I could not go +away again, nor did she want me to go. +Mr. Raymond hated me in those days, +yet we were so strong against him that +he gave his consent, and we were married on <a name="page210" id="page210"></a><span class="left">[page 210]</span> +just such a November day as +this. It seems like a dream, Floyd, that +I, so long a lonely man, without a private +joy, could ever have been so happy +as I was then. I loved her—the light +of her eyes and the white lids that covered +them when I looked at her; the +smile on her parted lips; the way her +hair curled away from her temples; the +little dimples all over her hands; her +voice, her little ways. And while I loved +her like that, before the first year of my +happiness had passed she was dead. I +hope you will never know what that +means. That she had left me a child +was nothing to me: I was only a rapturous +lover, and had not begun to long +for baby voices and upturned children's +faces. When, finally, I did turn to Helen, +it was as you see now: to part her +from her grandfather would be to wrench +body from soul."</p> +<p> +"Mr. Raymond is a very old man," I +suggested.</p> +<p> +"He has a surer life than mine: I +doubt if anybody would insure mine at +any price."</p> +<p> +We were silent. I felt awkward and +ashamed: I knew what was in his +thoughts.</p> +<p> +"You wise young people!" said he +presently, throwing his arm over my +shoulder—"oh, you wise young people!" +Then turning me square about, +he looked into my face: "Oh, you foolish, +foolish young people!"</p> +<p> +I felt foolish indeed—so foolish I +could not meet his eyes.</p> +<p> +"Why begrudge us a few years of +happiness together?" he asked in his +deliberate gentle voice. "Your mother +is still young, and so beautiful that she +deserves to shine in a sphere worthy of +her. I will say nothing of my profound +and respectful love for her. My love for +Alice was my passionate worship of a +singularly charming child: your mother +commands a different feeling. But of +that I will say nothing. Think, Floyd, +what a life I can offer her! It seems to +me that in marrying me she will gain +much: what can she lose?"</p> +<p> +What, indeed, could she lose? My +doubt and dread shrank into insignificant +and petty proportions: it seemed +to me the noblest fate for any woman +alive to gain the love of this man into +whose face I was looking earnestly. Yet +I could find no words to utter, and he +went on as if trying to convince me +against my will.</p> +<p> +"You do not appear to entertain any +aversion for me," he pursued, smiling, +"and in our new relation I will take care +that you do not like me less. You are +dear to me now, yet when your mother +is my wife you will be much dearer."</p> +<p> +My self-control vanished: my lip trembled. +"What does mother say?" I asked +almost in a whisper.</p> +<p> +He put his hands on my shoulders, +laughing softly: "She says she has a +son whose love and respect she so highly +prizes she will do nothing to forfeit them."</p> +<p> +"Does she love you, Mr. Floyd?" I +questioned bluntly.</p> +<p> +"I think she does—a little," he answered, +dropping his eyes. "But," he +went on more hurriedly, "in such a +marriage love is not everything, Floyd, +although it is much. There is sympathy, +constant close companionship: of +these both your mother and I have bitterly +felt the need."</p> +<p> +"Don't say any more, sir," I cried, +humbled to the dust. "When I first saw +what was coming I suppose I thought +only of myself: now—"</p> +<p> +"Now you think of two other people, +and withdraw your opposition. I confess +I can't see how you will be worse +off. Come now, give me your hand, +you young rascal! I shall go home +with you to-morrow, and—"</p> +<p> +"Will it take place at once?" I asked +with a pang at my heart.</p> +<p> +"What? our marriage? You are hurrying +matters charmingly. Mrs. Randolph +has not yet accepted me. But I +will confess to you, my boy, that I shall +be more than happy, more than proud, +if I can persuade her to allow me to introduce +her to my friends in Washington +in December."</p> +<p> +We walked about for more than an +hour after, but said no more about the +matter, although it was stirring below +every thought and word of each of us.<a name="page211" id="page211"></a><span class="left">[page 211]</span> +I felt the weariness of soul which succeeds +a struggle, and my guardian tried, +but unsuccessfully, to conceal the elation +which follows victory. Yet subdued and +unhappy though I was, haunted by a +sense of terrible loss, I was proud and +glad to have contented him. He talked +to me intimately, and discussed my plans +for the future. I was to enter college the +next year, and he pointed out the fact, to +which I was not insensible, that our old +life at home would necessarily have been +broken up when I left Belfield. He spoke +of my pecuniary means, and frankly informed +me that his property amounted to +three hundred thousand dollars, and that +this amount he had divided into thirds—one +for my mother, one for Helen and +one for me.</p> +<p> +"Oh, sir," I burst out, "you must not +be so generous to me."</p> +<p> +"And why not? My little girl has too +much already: it has always been one of +the discomforts of my life that she is so +rich, so raised above all human wants, +that I have had it in my power to do +nothing for her. I have seen poor men +buying clothes and shoes for their little +sunburned children, and envied them."</p> +<p> +We had been lounging toward the +house, and now had reached the terrace, +where we found Mr. Raymond +pacing feebly up and down in the mild +sunshine leaning on Frederick's arm. +Mr. Floyd stepped forward and took +the valet's place, investing the slight +courtesy with the charm of his grand +manner.</p> +<p> +"Where is Helen?" asked Mr. Raymond. +"I supposed that she was with +you, James."</p> +<p> +"I have not seen her since breakfast.—Suppose +you look her up, Floyd? I +am afraid she is with Miss Georgy, and +in mischief, no doubt.—I object, sir," +Mr. Floyd added to his father-in-law, +"to Helen's having too much of the +society of Miss Lenox. She is a pretty +little devil enough, but then I don't like +pretty little devils."</p> +<p> +"I have written to Mrs. Lenox to recall +her," returned Mr. Raymond stiffly. +"She is no favorite of mine. There is a +look in her eyes at times that makes me +shudder at the thought of the harm she +is pretty sure to do. Floyd here is her +only partisan."</p> +<p> +I had already sprung along the terrace, +and quickly crossed the lawn and +garden to the rocks. I remembered having +seen a blue and a scarlet jacket going +toward the shore during my talk +with Mr. Floyd; and, sure enough, on +the rocks I found traces of the girls—a +ribbon, the rind of Georgy's oranges +which she was always nibbling, and Helen's +book. Supposing they were on the +beach, I descended the stone steps leading +to the sands. There was a faint plashing +and lisping of the waves, but otherwise +no sound and no sight but the great +rocks and the smooth sea lustrous and +glittering like steel. I had no doubt but +that Helen and Georgy were somewhere +near me, and sat down to wait. My mind +was full of thoughts that came and went, +bringing clear but swiftly-shifting pictures +of our old life and the new, which rose +suddenly fresh and vivid before me. I +could see my mother's face, the color +coming and going like a young girl's, +and the movement of her little hands +clasping and unclasping in her lap. I +could see her, too, by the side of Mr. +Floyd in a bright, wonderful world of +which I knew nothing. For a moment +I felt already parted from her, and the +pang of separation wrenched body from +soul. I threw myself face downward on +the sand and declared myself profoundly +miserable.</p> +<p> +Suddenly I started to my feet. I was +vaguely terrified, yet could not tell what +had aroused me from my brooding +thoughts. I seemed conscious of having +heard a cry, but so faint and inarticulate +as hardly to differ from the +distant note of a sea-bird. But as I ran +frantically along the sands I distinctly +heard my name, and knew that the entreaty +was for help.</p> +<p> +"I am coming!" I screamed at the top +of my voice—"I am coming as fast as I +can." The rocks gave back so many deceitful +echoes that I was not certain from +what point the imploring cry came; but +I knew every inch of the beach for a mile +up and down, and knew, too, that there<a name="page212" id="page212"></a><span class="left">[page 212]</span> +was but one place in which with ordinary +prudence there could be the slightest +danger. So with unerring instinct I flew +along the wet shingle to "Raymond's +Cliff." At this point the beetling line of +rocks which coiled and frowned along +the coast terminated abruptly in precipitous +crags. On one side it was sheer +precipice, but on the other the cliff, exposed +both to wind and wave, washed +by the rains and gnawed at its base by +ever-advancing and receding tides, had +gradually been worn away in the centre +by the constant crumbling of the sandy +soil, so as to form a sort of ravine. It +was a dangerous and gloomy place, and +I had received many a warning from Mr. +Raymond never to take Helen there.</p> +<p> +"Helen!" I cried—"Helen! if you are +here, answer me. I cannot see you." A +gull flew away from the cliff with a scream, +and I could hear no other sound. "Tell +me, Helen, if you are here."</p> +<p> +I heard a cry from above—almost inaudible +it was so spiritless and faint—yet, +gaze as I might toward the top, I +could see nothing. I skirted the main +rock and climbed as far as I easily could +up the ravine. Here my attention was +arrested by a dot of scarlet against the +grim, bare face of the basalt. Yes, there +she was, about forty feet above me, hanging +on to a shelving rock with her little +Italian greyhound in her arms. She was +peering down, disclosing a pallid face. I +saw at once that she had hung there until +her strength was almost gone.</p> +<p> +"Listen to me, Helen," said I, calmly +and very gently, for I had a ghastly +dread that she would fall before my +very eyes. "Don't look down: just keep +your eyes fixed on the rock, and hold on +tight until I reach you." She obeyed me. +"Now," I went on authoritatively, "drop +the dog—drop him, I say!—Here, Beppo! +here!"</p> +<p> +She again obeyed me, and the dog +scrambled down and fell—scratched and +bruised, no doubt, yet otherwise unhurt—at +my feet. "Helen, answer me one +question," said I. "Can you wait until I +go round up to the top and get a rope?"</p> +<p> +She gave a little scream of pitiful anguish: +I saw her slight figure sway, and +some loose stones came rattling down. +"I feel so sick, so dizzy!" she cried.</p> +<p> +"I will climb up, then. Hold on tight +for a few minutes more. Keep perfectly +still, and don't look down: you know how +well I can climb."</p> +<p> +I was a capital climber, and could hold +on like a cat where there was a crevice +to fasten my feet or my hands. Still, I +was anything but certain about these hollow, +worn sides, which in places were as +smooth as glass. But it had to be done, +and done quickly. If the child fell she +was dead or maimed to a certainty. She +had crawled in some unheard-of way +down from the top, and must go back +the way she had come; and since I had +no time to help her from above, I must +go up to her. A spar had been washed +up among the débris upon which I had +mounted, and this helped me up a little +way. Then I managed to creep a +trifle farther, hand over hand: whenever +I could take breath I called out to +her that it was all right and I should be +up in another minute. The necessity +of keeping up her courage endowed me +with miraculous strength, and in a little +while I stood beside Helen on the narrow +shelf, and waited for a moment to breathe +freely and see what was yet beyond me. +I smiled at her, and she looked steadily +into my face, but said not a word.</p> +<p> +"How in the world did you get here, +Helen?" I asked.</p> +<p> +"I came after Beppo," she returned, +her lip trembling.</p> +<p> +"How did Beppo get here?"</p> +<p> +"Georgy flung him down," cried the +child, bursting into tears. "Perhaps she +did not mean to, but she was angry that +he would not go by himself after the +stone she flung."</p> +<p> +I had looked to the top by this time, +and saw at once that the worst part of +the ascent was before me. It had been +sheer rock beneath: here the strata were +crumbled, and the interstices filled with +earth and dried vegetation. The angle +was much greater than it had been below, +and it was easy to see that even +Helen's light footstep had loosened every +fragment it had touched. I gained +a foothold above her; stretched out my<a name="page213" id="page213"></a><span class="left">[page 213]</span> +hand and drew her up; then another +and another. Once she lost her footing, +but I caught the slim figure in my +arms and went on, with her half fainting +against my shoulder, her puny strength +quite worn out.</p> +<p> +When we were within a few feet of +the top I told her to look up. "You see +that we are almost there," I said gently. +"Can you do what I tell you to do? +When I raise you place one foot on my +shoulder: ... now, then, take hold of +something firmly and clamber up."</p> +<p> +My footing was precarious, and in order +to lift her up I was obliged to unfasten +my hold of the few scant wisps of +withered grass. If she could but reach +the top, I believed I could make a supreme +effort to save myself; and I risked +everything.</p> +<p> +In an instant she was on the brow of +the cliff. She gave a convulsive cry of joy +and relief, and reached out her little hand +to me. I almost stretched out to grasp +it; then, remembering that with her slight +weight I might easily drag her back into +danger, I took hold of a little bush: it +was dried to the roots, and came out in +my hand. My footing gave way: I slipped +down, with nothing to break my fall—not +a shrub, not a fissure in the rocks. +The blue sky had been above me, but +that blessed glimpse of azure vanished, +and I could see nothing but the frowning +sides of the precipice as I went down, +my pace accelerating every moment. I +believed I could gain a hold or footing on +the shelving rock where I had found +Helen, but it gave way as I touched it +and slid suddenly down the ravine. I +was dizzy and bruised, but was wondering +if Helen would give the alarm—if +Georgy would be sorry. I thought with +pity of my mother, who would surely +weep for me. Then I heard Beppo barking +joyfully, and I knew that I was at the +bottom of the abyss. I suffered a few +seconds of such terrible pain that I was +glad when a sickening sort of quietude +settled over me, and I felt that I must +be dying.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Ellen W. Olney.</span></p> + +<p class="center">[TO BE CONTINUED.]</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="p213" id="p213"></a> + +<h2>A SEA-SOUND.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>Hush! hush!</p> + <p class="i2">'Tis the voice of the sea to the land,</p> + <p class="i2">As it breaks on the desolate strand,</p> + <p>With a chime to the strenuous wave of life</p> + <p class="i2">That throbs in the quivering sand.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>Hush! hush!</p> + <p class="i2">Each requiem tone as it dies,</p> + <p class="i2">With a soul that is parting, sighs;</p> + <p>For the tide rolls back from the pulseless clay</p> + <p class="i2">As the foam in the tempest flies.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>Hush! hush!</p> + <p class="i2">O throb of the restless sea!</p> + <p class="i2">All hearts are attuned to thee—</p> + <p>All pulses beat with thine ebb and flow</p> + <p class="i2">To the rhyme of Eternity!</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> +<p class="i24"><span class="sc">John B. Tabb.</span></p> +</div> +</div> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page214" id="page214"></a><span class="left">[page 214]</span> + + +<h2>THE BRITISH SOLDIER.</h2> + +<p> +I allude to the British soldier, more +especially, as I lately observed and admired +him at Aldershot, where, just now, +he appears to particular advantage; but +at any time during the past twelvemonth—since +England and Russia have stood +glaring at each other across the prostrate +body of the expiring yet reviving Turk—this +actually ornamental and potentially +useful personage has been picturesquely, +agreeably conspicuous. I +say "agreeably," speaking from my own +humble point of view, because I confess +to a lively admiration of the military +class. I exclaim, cordially, with +Offenbach's Grand Duchess, "Ah, oui, +j'aime les militaires!" Mr. Ruskin has +said somewhere, very naturally, that he +could never resign himself to living in a +country in which, as in the United States, +there should be no old castles. Putting +aside the old castles, I should say, like +Mr. Ruskin, that life loses a certain indispensable +charm in a country destitute +of an apparent standing army. Certainly, +the army may be too apparent, too +importunate, too terrible a burden to the +state and to the conscience of the philosophic +observer. This is the case, without +a doubt, just now in the bristling +empires of the Continent. In Germany +and France, in Russia and Italy, there +are many more soldiers than are needed +to make the taxpayer thrifty or the +lover of the picturesque happy. The +huge armaments of continental Europe +are an oppressive and sinister spectacle, +and I have rarely derived a high order of +entertainment from the sight of even the +largest masses of homesick conscripts. +The <i>chair à canon</i>—the cannon-meat—as +they aptly term it in French, has always +seemed to me dumbly, appealingly +conscious of its destiny. I have seen it +in course of preparation—seen it salted +and dressed and packed and labelled, +as it were, for consumption. In that +marvellous France, indeed, which bears +all burdens lightly, and whose good spirits +and absence of the tragic <i>pose</i> alone prevent +us from calling her constantly heroic, +the army scarcely seems to be the +heavy charge that it must be in fact. +The little red-legged soldiers, always +present and always moving, are as thick +as the field-flowers in an abundant harvest, +and amid the general brightness +and mobility of French life they strike +one at times simply as cheerful tokens +of the national exuberance and fecundity. +But in Germany and Italy the national +levies impart a lopsided aspect to society: +they seem to drag it under water. +They hang like a millstone round its +neck, so that it can't move: it has to sit +still, looking wistfully at the long, forward +road which it is unable to measure.</p> +<p> +England, which is fortunate in so +many things, is fortunate in her well-fed +mercenaries, who suggest none of +the dismal reflections provoked by the +great foreign armies. It is true, of course, +that they fail to suggest some of the inspiring +ones. If Germany and France +are burdened, at least they are defended—at +least they are armed for conflict and +victory. There seems to be a good deal +of doubt as to how far this is true of the +nation which has hitherto been known as +the pre-eminently pugnacious one. Where +France and Germany and Russia count +by hundreds, England counts by tens; +and it is only, strictly speaking, on the +good old principle that one Englishman +can buffet a dozen foreigners that a very +hopeful view of an Anglo-continental collision +can be maintained. This good old +principle is far from having gone out of +fashion: you may hear it proclaimed to +an inspiring tune any night in the week +in the London music-halls. One summer +evening, in the country, an English +gentleman was telling me about his little +boy, a rosy, sturdy, manly child whom I +had already admired, and whom he depicted +as an infant Hercules. The surrounding +influences at the moment were +picturesque. An ancient lamp was suspended <a name="page215" id="page215"></a><span class="left">[page 215]</span> +from the ceiling of the hall; the +large door stood open upon a terrace; +and outside the big, dense treetops were +faintly stirring in the starlight. My companion +dilated upon the pluck and muscle, +the latent pugnacity, of his dear little +son, and told me how bravely already he +doubled his infant fist. There was a kind +of Homeric simplicity about it. From +this he proceeded to wider considerations, +and observed that the English +child was of necessity the bravest and +sturdiest in the world, for the plain reason +that he was the germ of the English man. +What the English man was we of course +both knew, but, as I was a stranger, my +friend explained the matter in detail. He +was a person whom, in the ordinary course +of human irritation, every one else was +afraid of. Nowhere but in England +were such men made—men who could +hit out as soon as think, and knock over +persons of inferior race as you would +brush away flies. They were afraid of +nothing: the sentiment of hesitation to +inflict a blow under rigidly proper circumstances +was unknown to them. English +soldiers and sailors in a row carried +everything before them: foreigners didn't +know what to make of such fellows, and +were afraid to touch them. A couple of +Englishmen were a match for a foreign +mob. My friend's little boy was made +like a statue: his little arms and legs +were quite of the right sort. This was +the greatness of England, and of this +there was an infinite supply. The light, +as I say, was dim in the great hall, and +the rustle of the oaks in the park was +almost audible. Their murmur seemed +to offer a sympathetic undertone to the +honest conversation of my companion, +and I sat there as humble a ministrant to +the simple and beautiful idea of British +valor as the occasion could require. I +made the reflection—by which I must +justify my anecdote—that the ancient +tradition as to the personal fighting-value +of the individual Englishman flourishes +in high as well as in low life, and forms +a common ground of contact between +them; with the simple difference that +at the music-halls it is more poetically +expressed than in the country-houses. +</p> + +<p>I am grossly ignorant of military matters, +and hardly know the names of regiments +or the designations of their officers; +yet, as I said at the beginning of +these remarks, I am always very much +struck by the sight of a uniform. War is +a detestable thing, and I would willingly +see the sword dropped into its scabbard +for ever. Only I should plead that in +its sheathed condition the sword should +still be allowed to play a certain part. +Actual war is detestable, but there is +something agreeable in possible war; +and I have been thankful that I should +have found myself on British soil at a +moment when it was resounding to the +tread of regiments. If the British army +is small, it has during the last six months +been making the most of itself. The rather +dusky spectacle of British life has +been lighted up by the presence in the +foreground of considerable masses of +that vivid color which is more particularly +associated with the protection of +British interests. The sunshine has appeared +to rest upon scattered clusters +of red-coats, while the background has +been enveloped in a sort of chaotic and +fuliginous dimness. The red-coats, according +to their number, have been palpable +and definite, though a great many +other things have been inconveniently +vague. At the beginning of the year, +when Parliament was opened in the +queen's name, the royal speech contained +a phrase which that boisterous +organ of the war-party, the <i>Pall Mall +Gazette</i>, pronounced "sickening" in its +pusillanimity. Her Majesty alluded to +the necessity, in view of the complications +in the East, of the government +taking into consideration the making of +"preparations for precaution." This was +certainly an ineffective way of expressing +a thirst for Russian blood, but the +royal phraseology is never very felicitous; +and the "preparations for precaution" +have been extremely interesting. +Indeed, for a person conscious of a desire +to look into what may be called the +psychology of politics, I can imagine +nothing more interesting than the general +spectacle of the public conduct of +England during the last two years. I<a name="page216" id="page216"></a><span class="left">[page 216]</span> +have watched it with a good deal of the +same sort of entertainment with which +one watches a five-act drama from a +comfortable place in the stalls. There +are moments of discomfort in the course +of such a performance: the theatre is hot +and crowded, the situations are too prolonged, +the play seems to drag, some of +the actors have no great talent. But the +piece, as a whole, is intensely dramatic, +the argument is striking, and you would +not for the world leave your place before +the dénouement is reached. My own +pleasure all winter, I confess, has been +partly marred by a bad conscience: I +have felt a kind of shame at my inability +to profit by a brilliant opportunity to +make up my mind. This inability, however, +was extreme, and my regret was +not lightened by seeing every one about +me set an admirable example of decision, +and even of precision. Every one about +me was either a Russian or a Turk, the +Turks, however, being greatly the more +numerous. It appeared necessary to one's +self-respect to assume some foreign personality, +and I felt keenly, for a while, the +embarrassment of choice. At last it occurred +to me simply that as an American +I might be an Englishman; and the reflection +became afterward very profitable.</p> +<p> +When once I had undertaken the +part, I played it with what the French +call <i>conviction</i>. There are many obvious +reasons why the rôle, at such a time as +this, should accommodate itself to the +American capacity. The feeling of race +is strong, and a good American could +not but desire that, with the eyes of +Europe fixed upon it, the English race +should make a passable figure. There +would be much fatuity in his saying that +at such a moment he deemed it of importance +to give it the support of his +own striking attitude, but there is at least +a kind of filial piety in this feeling moved +to draw closer to it. To see how the English +race would behave, and to hope devoutly +it would behave well,—this was the +occupation of my thoughts. Old England +was in a difficult pass, and all the world +was watching her. The good American +feels in all sorts of ways about Old England: +the better American he is, the more +acute are his moods, the more lively his +variations. He can be, I think, everything +but indifferent; and, for myself, I +never hesitated to let my emotions play +all along the scale. In the morning, over +the <i>Times</i>, it was extremely difficult to +make up one's mind. The <i>Times</i> seemed +very mealy-mouthed—that impression, +indeed, it took no great cleverness +to gather—but the dilemma lay between +one's sense of the brutality and cynicism +of the usual utterances of the Turkish +party and one's perception of the direful +ills which Russian conquest was so +liberally scattering abroad. The brutality +of the Turkish tone, as I sometimes +caught an echo of it in the talk of chance +interlocutors, was not such as to quicken +that race-feeling to which I just now alluded. +English society is a tremendously +comfortable affair, and the crudity of +the sarcasm that I frequently heard levelled +by its fortunate members at the victims +of the fashionable Turk was such as +to produce a good deal of resentful meditation. +It was provoking to hear a rosy +English gentleman, who had just been +into Leicestershire for a week's hunting, +deliver the opinion that the vulgar Bulgarians +had really not been massacred +half enough; and this in spite of the fact +that one had long since made the observation +that for a good plain absence of +mawkish sentimentality a certain type of +rosy English gentleman is nowhere to be +matched. On the other hand, it was not +very comfortable to think of the measureless +misery in which these interesting +populations were actually steeped, and +one had to admit that the deliberate invasion +of a country which professed the +strongest desire to live in peace with its +invaders was at least a rather striking +anomaly. Such a course could only be +justified by the most gratifying results, +and brilliant consequences as yet had +not begun to bloom upon the blood-drenched +fields of Bulgaria.</p> +<p> +To see this heavy-burdened, slow-moving +Old England making up her +mind was an edifying spectacle. It was +not over-fanciful to say to one's self, in +spite of the difficulties of the problem +and the (in a certain sense) evenly-balanced <a name="page217" id="page217"></a><span class="left">[page 217]</span> +scales, that this was a great crisis +in her history, that she stood at the crossing +of the ways, and that according as +she put forth her right hand or her left +would her greatness stand or wane. It +was possible to imagine that in her huge, +dim, collective consciousness she felt an +oppressive sense of moral responsibility, +that she too murmured to herself that +she was on trial, and that, through the +mists of bewilderment and the tumult of +party cries, she begged to be enlightened. +The sympathetic American to whom I +have alluded may be represented at such +an hour as making a hundred irresponsible +reflections and indulging in all sorts +of fantastic visions. If I had not already +wandered so far from my theme, I should +like to offer a few instances here. Very +often it seemed natural to care very little +whether England went to war with Russia +or not: the interest lay in the moral +struggle that was going on within her +own limits. Awkward as this moral +struggle made her appear, perilously as +it seemed to have exposed her to the sarcasm +of some of her neighbors—of that +compact, cohesive France, for instance, +which even yet cannot easily imagine a +great country sacrificing the substance +of "glory" to the shadow of wisdom—this +was the most striking element in the +drama into which, as I said just now, the +situation had resolved itself. The Liberal +party at the present hour is broken, +disfigured, demoralized, the mere ghost +of its former self. The opposition to the +government has been, in many ways, factious +and hypercritical: it has been opposition +for opposition's sake, and it has +met, in part, the fate of such immoralities. +But a good part of the cause that it represented +appeared at times to be the highest +conscience of a civilized country. The +aversion to war, the absence of defiance, +the disposition to treat the emperor of +Russia like a gentleman and a man of +his word, the readiness to make concessions, +to be conciliatory, even credulous, +to try a great many expedients before +resorting to the showy argument of the +sword,—these various attributes of the +peace party offered, of course, ample +opportunity to those scoffers at home +and abroad who are always prepared to +cry out that England has sold herself, +body and soul, to "Manchester." It was +interesting to attempt to feel what there +might be of justice in such cries, and at +the same time feel that this looking at +war in the face and pronouncing it very +vile was the mark of a high civilization. +It is but fair to add, though it takes some +courage, that I found myself very frequently +of the opinion of the last speaker. +If British interests were in fact endangered +by Russian aggression—though, +on the whole, I did not at all believe it—it +would be a fine thing to see the ancient +might of this great country reaffirm itself. +I did not at all believe it, as I say; yet at +times, I confess, I tried to believe it, pretended +I believed it, for the sake of this +inspiring idea of England's making, like +the lady in <i>Dombey & Son</i>, "an effort." +There were those who, if one would listen +to them, would persuade one that +that sort of thing was quite out of the +question; that England was no longer a +fighting power; that her day was over; +and that she was quite incapable of striking +a blow for the great empire she had +built up—with a good deal less fighting, +really, than had been given out—by +taking happy advantage of weaker states. +(These hollow reasoners were of course +invidious foreigners.) To such talk as +this I paid little attention—only just +enough to feel it quicken my desire that +this fine nation, so full of private pugnacity +and of public deliberation, might +find in circumstances a sudden pretext for +doing something gallant and striking.</p> +<p> +Meanwhile I watched the soldiers +whenever an opportunity offered. My +opportunities, I confess, were moderate, +for it was not often my fortune to encounter +an imposing military array. In +London there are a great many red-coats, +but they rarely march about the +streets in large masses. The most impressive +military body that engages the +attention of the contemplative pedestrian +is the troop of Life Guards or of +Blues which every morning, about eleven +o'clock, makes its way down to Whitehall +from the Regent's Park barracks. +(Shortly afterward another troop passes<a name="page218" id="page218"></a><span class="left">[page 218]</span> +up from Whitehall, where, at the Horse +Guards, the guard has been changed.) +The Life Guards are one of the most +brilliant ornaments of the metropolis, +and I never see two or three of them +pass without feeling shorter by several +inches. When, of a summer afternoon, +they scatter themselves abroad +in undress uniform—with their tight +red jackets and tight blue trousers following +the swelling lines of their manly +shapes, and their little visorless caps +perched neatly askew on the summit of +their six feet two of stature—it is impossible +not to be impressed, and almost +abashed, by the sight of such a consciousness +of neatly-displayed physical +advantages and by such an air of superior +valor. It is true that I found the +other day in an amusing French book +(a little book entitled <i>Londres pittoresque</i>, +by M. Henri Bellenger) a description +of these majestic warriors which +took a humorous view of their grandeur. +A Frenchman arriving in London, says +M. Bellenger, stops short in the middle +of the pavement and stares aghast at this +strange apparition—"this tall lean fellow, +with his wide, short torso perched +upon a pair of grasshopper's legs and +squeezed into an adhesive jacket of +scarlet cloth, who dawdles himself along +with a little cane in his hand, swinging +forward his enormous feet, curving his +arms, throwing back his shoulders, arching +his chest, with a mixture of awkwardness, +fatuity and stiffness the most curious +and the most exhilarating.... In his +general aspect," adds this merciless critic, +"he recalls the circus-rider, minus the +latter's flexibility: skin-tight garments, +simpering mouth, smile of a dancing-girl, +attempt to be impertinent and irresistible +which culminates only in being +ridiculous."</p> +<p> +This is a very heavy-handed picture +of those exaggerated proportions and +that conquering gait which, as I say, +render the tall Life Guardsman one +of the most familiar ornaments of the +London streets. But it is when he is +armed and mounted that he is most +picturesque—when he sits, monumentally, +astride of his black charger in one +of the big niches on either side of the +gate of the Horse Guards, cuirassed and +helmeted, booted and spurred. I never +fail to admire him as I pass through the +adjacent archway, as well as his companions, +equally helmeted and booted, +who march up and down beside him, +and, as Taine says, alluding in his <i>Notes +sur l'Angleterre</i> to the scene, "posent +avec majesté devant les gamins." If I +chance to be in St. James's street when +a semi-squadron of these elegant warriors +are returning from attendance upon +royalty after a Drawing-Room or a Levee, +I am sure to make one of the gamins +who stand upon the curbstone to see +them pass. If the day be a fine one at +the height of the season, and London +happen to be wearing otherwise the brilliancy +of supreme fashion—with beautiful +dandies at the club-windows, and chariots +ascending the sunny slope freighted +with wigged and flowered coachmen, +great armorial hammercloths, powdered, +appended footmen, dowagers and +débutantes—then the rattling, flashing, +prancing cavalcade of the long detachment +of the Household troops strikes +one as the official expression of a thoroughly +well-equipped society. It must +be added, however, that it is many a year +since the Life Guards or the Blues have +had harder work than this. To escort +their sovereign to the railway-stations at +London and Windsor has long been their +most arduous duty. They were present +to very good purpose at Waterloo, but +since their return from that immortal +field they have not been out of England. +Heavy cavalry, in modern warfare, has +gone out of fashion, and in case of a conflict +in the East those nimble, pretty fellows +the Hussars, with their tight, dark-blue +tunics so brilliantly embroidered with +yellow braid, would take precedence of +their majestic comrades. The Hussars +are indeed the prettiest fellows of all, +and if I were fired with a martial ambition +I should certainly enlist in their +ranks. I know of no military personage +more agreeable to the civil eye than +a blue-and-yellow hussar, unless indeed +it be a young officer in the Rifle Brigade. +The latter is perhaps, to a refined and<a name="page219" id="page219"></a><span class="left">[page 219]</span> +chastened taste, the most graceful, the +most truly elegant, of all military types. +The little riflemen, the common soldiers, +have an extremely useful and durable +aspect: with their plain black uniforms, +little black Scotch bonnets, black gloves, +total absence of color, they suggest the +rigidly practical and business-like phase +of their profession—the restriction of the +attention to the simple specialty of "picking +off" one's enemy. The officers are +of course more elegant, but their elegance +is sober and subdued. They are +dressed all in black, save for a broad, +dark crimson sash which they wear across +the shoulder and chest, and for a very +slight hint of gold lace upon their small, +round, short-visored caps. They are furthermore +adorned with a small quantity +of broad black braid discreetly applied to +their tight, long-skirted surtouts. There +is a kind of severe gentlemanliness about +this costume which, when it is worn by +a tall, slim, neat-waisted young Englishman +with a fresh complexion, a candid +eye and a yellow moustache, is of quite +irresistible effect. There is no such triumph +of taste as to look rich without +high colors and picturesque without accessories. +The imagination is always +struck by the figure of a soberly-dressed +gentleman with a sword.</p> +<p> +The little riflemen, the Hussars, the +Life Guards, the Foot Guards, the artillerymen +(whose garments always look +stiffer and more awkwardly fitted than +those of their <i>confrères</i>) have all, however, +one quality in common—the appearance +of extreme, of even excessive, +youth. It is hardly too much to say that +the British army, as a stranger observes +it now-a-days, is an army of boys. All +the regiments are boyish: they are made +up of lads who range from seventeen to +five-and-twenty. You look almost in +vain for the old-fashioned specimen of +the British soldier—the large, well-seasoned +man of thirty, bronzed and whiskered +beneath his terrible bearskin and +with shoulders fashioned for the heaviest +knapsack. This was the ancient English +grenadier. But the modern grenadier, as +he perambulates the London pavement, +is for the most part a fresh-colored lad of +moderate stature, who hardly strikes one +as offering the elements of a very solid +national defence. He enlists, as a general +thing, for six years, and if he leave +the army at the end of this term his service +in the ranks will have been hardly +more than a juvenile escapade. I often +wonder, however, that the unemployed +Englishman of humble origin should not +be more often disposed to take up his residence +in Her Majesty's barracks. There +is a certain street-corner at Westminster +where the recruiting-sergeants stand all +day at the receipt of custom. The place +is well chosen, and I suppose they drive a +tolerably lively business: all London sooner +or later passes that way, and whenever +I have passed I have always observed +one of these smart apostles of military +glory trying to catch the ear of one of the +dingy London <i>lazzaroni</i>. Occasionally, +if the hook has been skilfully baited, they +appear to be conscious of a bite, but as +a general thing the unfashionable object +of their blandishments turns away, after +an unillumined stare at the brilliant fancy +dress of his interlocutor, with a more or +less concise declaration of incredulity. +In front of him stretches, across the +misty Thames, the large commotion of +Westminster Bridge, crowned by the +huge, towered mass of the Houses of +Parliament. To the right of this, a little +<i>effaced</i>, as the French say, is the vague +black mass of the Abbey; close at hand +are half a dozen public-houses, convenient +for drinking a glass to the encouragement +of military aspiration; in +the background are the squalid and populous +slums of Westminster. It is a characteristic +congregation of objects, and I +have often wondered that among so many +eloquent mementos of the life of the English +people the possible recruit should not +be prompted by the sentiment of social +solidarity to throw himself into the arms +of the agent of patriotism. Speaking less +vaguely, one would suppose that to the +great majority of the unwashed and unfed +the condition of a private in one of +the queen's regiments would offer much +that might be supremely enviable. It is +a chance to become, relatively speaking, +a gentleman—more than a gentleman, a<a name="page220" id="page220"></a><span class="left">[page 220]</span> +"swell"—to have the grim problem of +existence settled at a stroke. The British +soldier always presents the appearance +of scrupulous cleanliness: he is scoured, +scrubbed, brushed beyond reproach. His +hair is enriched with pomatum and his +shoes are radiantly polished. His little +cap is worn in a manner determined by +considerations purely æsthetic. He carries +a little cane in one hand, and, like +a gentleman at a party, a pair of white +gloves in the other. He holds up his +head and expands his chest, and bears +himself generally like a person who has +reason to invite rather than to evade the +fierce light of modern criticism. He enjoys, +moreover, an abundant leisure, and +appears to have ample time and means +for participating in the advantages of a +residence in London—for frequenting +gin-palaces and music-halls, for observing +the beauties of the West End and +cultivating the society of appreciative +housemaids. To a ragged and simple-minded +rustic or to a young Cockney +of vague resources all this ought to be a +brilliant picture. That the picture should +seem to contain any shadows is a proof +of the deep-seated relish in the human +mind for our personal independence. +The fear of "too many masters" weighs +heavily against the assured comforts and +the opportunity of cutting a figure. On +the other hand, I remember once being +told by a communicative young trooper +with whom I had some conversation that +the desire to "see life" had been his own +motive for enlisting. He appeared to be +seeing it with some indistinctness: he +was a little tipsy at the time.</p> +<p> +I spoke at the beginning of these remarks +of the brilliant impressions to be +gathered during a couple of days' stay +at Aldershot, and I have delayed much +too long to attempt a rapid and grateful +report of them. But I reflect that such a +report, however friendly, coming from a +visitor profoundly uninitiated into the +military mystery, can have but a relative +value. I may lay myself open to +contempt, for instance, in making the +simple remark that the big parade held +in honor of the queen's birthday, and +which I went down more particularly to +see, struck me, as the young ladies say, +as perfectly lovely. I will nevertheless +hazard this confession, for I should otherwise +seem to myself to be grossly irresponsive +to a delightful hospitality. Aldershot +is a very charming place—an +example the more, to my sense, if examples +were needed, of the happy +variety of this wonderful little island, +its adaptability to every form of human +convenience. Some twenty years ago +it occurred to the late prince consort, +to whom so many things occurred, that +it would be a good thing to establish +a great camp. He cast his eyes about +him, and instantly they rested upon a +spot as perfectly adapted to his purpose +as if Nature from the first had had an +eye to pleasing him. It was a matter of +course that the prince should find exactly +what he looked for. Aldershot is at +but little more than an hour from London—a +high, sunny, breezy expanse surrounded +by heathery hills. It offers all +the required conditions of liberal space, +of quick accessibility, of extreme salubrity, +of contiguity to a charming little +tumbled country in which the troops +may indulge in ingenious imitations of +difficult manœuvres; to which it behooves +me to add the advantage of +enchanting drives and walks for the +entertainment of the impressible visitor. +In winter, possibly, the great circle of +the camp is rather a prey to the elements, +but nothing can be more agreeable +than I found it toward the end of +May, with the light fresh breezes hanging +about, and the sun-rifts from a magnificently +cloudy sky lighting up all +around the big yellow patches of gorse.</p> +<p> +At Aldershot the military class lives +in huts, a generic name given to certain +low wooden structures of small dimensions +and a single story, covering, however, +a good many specific variations. +The oblong shanty in which thirty or +forty common soldiers are stowed away +is naturally a very different affair from +the neat little bungalow of an officer. +The buildings are distributed in chessboard +fashion over a very large area, +and form two distinct camps. There +is also a substantial little town, chiefly<a name="page221" id="page221"></a><span class="left">[page 221]</span> +composed of barracks and public-houses; +in addition to which, at crowded seasons, +far and near over the plain there is the +glitter of white tents. "The neat little +bungalow of an officer," as I said just +now: I learned, among other things, +what a charming form of habitation this +may be. The ceilings are very low, the +partitions are thin, the rooms are all next +door to each other; the place is a good +deal like an American "cottage" by the +seaside. But even in these narrow conditions +that homogeneous English luxury +which is the admiration of the stranger +blooms with its usual amplitude. The +specimen which suggests these observations +was cushioned and curtained like +a pretty house in Mayfair, and yet its +pretensions were tempered by a kind of +rustic humility. I entered it first in the +dark, but the next morning, when I stepped +outside to have a look at it by daylight, +I burst into pardonable laughter. +The walls were of plain planks painted +a dark red: the roof, on which I could +almost rest my elbow, was neatly endued +with a coating of tar. But, after +all, the thing was very pretty. There +was a matting of ivy all over the front +of the hut, thriving as I had never known +ivy to thrive upon a wooden surface: +there was a tangle of creepers about all +the windows. The place looked like a +"side-scene" in a comic opera. But +there was a serious little English lawn +in front of it, over which a couple of industrious +red-coats were pulling up and +down a garden-roller; and in the centre +of the drive before the door was a tremendous +clump of rhododendrons of +more than operatic brilliancy. I leaned +on the garden-gate and looked out at the +camp: it was twinkling and bustling in +the morning light, which drizzled down +upon it in patches from a somewhat agitated +sky. An hour later the camp got +itself together and spread itself, in close +battalions and glittering cohorts, over a +big green level, where it marched and +cantered about most effectively in honor +of a lady living at a quiet Scotch country-house. +One of this lady's generals +stood in a corner, and the regiments +marched past and saluted. This simple +spectacle was in reality very brilliant. I +know nothing about soldiers, as the reader +must long since have discovered, but +I had, nevertheless, no hesitation in saying +to myself that these were the handsomest +troops in the world. Everything +in such a spectacle is highly picturesque, +and if the observer is one of the profane +he has no perception of weakness of detail. +He sees the long squadrons shining +and shifting, uncurling themselves over +the undulations of the ground like great +serpents with metallic scales, and he remembers +Milton's description of the celestial +hosts. The British soldier is doubtless +not celestial, but the extreme perfection +of his appointments makes him +look very well on parade. On this occasion +at Aldershot I felt as if I were at +the Hippodrome. There was a great +deal of cavalry and artillery, and the +dragoons, hussars and lancers, the beautiful +horses, the capital riders, the wonderful +wagons and guns, seemed even more +theatrical than military. This came, in +a great measure, from the freshness and +tidiness of their accessories—the brightness +and tightness of uniforms, the polish +of boots and buckles, the newness of leather +and paint. None of these things were +the worse for wear: they had the bloom +of peace still upon them. As I looked at +the show, and then afterward, in charming +company, went winding back to camp, +passing detachments of the great cavalcade, +returning also in narrow file, balancing +on their handsome horses along +the paths in the gorse-brightened heather, +I allowed myself to wish that since, +as matters stood, the British soldier was +clearly such a fine fellow and a review +at Aldershot was such a delightful entertainment, +the bloom of peace might long +remain.</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">H. James, Jr.</span></p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page222" id="page222"></a><span class="left">[page 222]</span> + + +<h2>A SAXON GOD.</h2> + +<p> +In the year of grace 1854, Ernest Philip +King, a young attaché of the English +embassy at Athens, married Haidée +Amic, the most beautiful woman in that +city. Neither of the pair possessed a fortune, +and their united means afforded a +not abundantly luxurious style of living; +but they loved each other, and the fact +that he was the portionless son of a Church +of England divine, and she the daughter +of an impecunious Greek of noble family +and royal lineage, was no drawback to +the early happiness of their wooing and +wedding. They had two children, a boy +and a girl, born within two years of each +other in Athens: the girl, the elder of the +two, they named Hyacinthe; the boy was +called Tancredi.</p> +<p> +Five years after this marriage had +taken place King lost his position at the +embassy, and only received in exchange +for it a mean government clerkship in +Rome at a meagre salary. Thither he +removed, and after dragging out a miserable +and disappointed existence five +years longer, he died in the arms of his +beautiful and still young wife. Thereafter +the youthful widow managed to +keep life in herself and her two little +ones by dint of pinching, management +and contrivance on the pittance that had +come to her from the estate of her impecunious +father. They lived in a palace, +it is true—but who does not live in +a palace in Rome?—high up, where the +cooing doves built their nests under the +leaden eaves, and where the cold winds +whistled shrilly in their season.</p> +<p> +Such accomplishments as the mother +was mistress of she imparted to her children. +What other education they received +was derived from intercourse with +many foreigners, English, French, Russians, +and from familiarity with the sights +and wonders of Rome, its galleries, ruins, +palaces, studios.</p> +<p> +At eighteen Tancredi had obtained a +situation as amanuensis to an English historian +resident in Italy; and Hyacinthe +already brooded over some active and +unusual future that spread itself as yet +but dimly before her. She inherited from +her mother her unparalleled beauty—the +clear, colorless, flawless skin, the straight +features, the lustrous eyes with their luxuriant +lashes and long level brows, her +lithe and gracious figure and slender +feet and hands: of the English father +her only physical trace was the large, +full, mobile mouth with its firm white +teeth. She had from him the modern +spirit of unrest and the modern impetus +and energy: from the Greek mother, +a counteracting languor of temperament +and an antique cast of mind.</p> +<p> +Such, in a measure, was Hyacinthe +King at twenty—a curious compound of +beauty, unspent <i>verve</i>, irritated longings, +half-superstitious imaginings, and half-developed +impulses, ideas and mental +powers; practically, an assistant to the +worn mother in her household duties, a +haunter of the beautiful places in the city +of her adoption, an occasional mingler in +the scant festivities of artists, a good linguist, +knowing English thoroughly and +speaking French and German with fluent +accuracy. Watch her, with me, as she +walks one spring day along the narrow +Via Robbia, down which a slip of sunlight +glints scantily on her young head, +and, emerging into a wider thoroughfare, +ascends at last the Scala Regia of the +Vatican. The girl is known there, and +the usually not over-courteous officials +allow her to pass on at her will through +hall after hall of splendor and priceless +treasure. She is neither an English tourist +with Baedeker, Murray and a note-book, +nor an American traveller with pencil, +loose leaves and a possible photographic +apparatus in her pocket: therefore +to the vigilant eye of the guardian +of the pope's palace she is an innocuous +being. Hyacinthe glides quietly through +the Clementino Museum, with never a +glance for the lovely, blooming Mercury +of the Belvedere, or even one peep in at<a name="page223" id="page223"></a><span class="left">[page 223]</span> +the cabinet where the sad Laocoön for +ever writhes in impotent struggles, or a +look of love for rare and radiant Apollo, +or one of surprise for Hercules with the +Nemean lion. She has reached the Hall +of Statues—that superb gallery with its +subtly-tesselated pavement, its grand +marble columns with their Ionic capitals, +its arches and walls of wondrous +marbles—and here she stops with a little +sigh before the Cupid of Praxiteles, +shorn of his wings by ruthless Time or +some still more ruthless human destroyer. +But oh the lovesomeness of that wingless +Love, the sensuous psalmody that +seems about to part the young lips, and +the glad eyes one may fancy glancing +under that careless infant brow! Hyacinthe +stands before it a long, long time +while many parties come in and go out, +and only moves on a little when an insolent +young Frenchman offers a surmise as +to her being a statue herself. She moves +only as far as Ariadne: the <i>jeune Français</i> +has made a progressive movement +also, and notes behind his Paris hat to his +companion that the girl looks something +like the marble. She does. Though the +grief of the face of the daughter of Minos +as she lies deserted by her lover on +the rocky shore of Naxos be a poignant +and a present woe, there is the shadow of +its mate on the brow and lips of the girl +who gazes at its pure and pallid and all-unavailing +loveliness.</p> +<p> +The Frenchmen have gone with their +guide, and there is a great stillness falling +on the place, and no more tourists +come that way. The light is fading, but +Hyacinthe turns back to the mutilated +Cupid, and ere long sits down at the base +of the statue, and her head rests well on +the cold marble while the darkness grows, +and the guardians of the Vatican either +forget or do not distinguish the white of +her gown from the blurred blanchedness +of the Greek Love.</p> +<p> +So, while the mother waits at home, +and wails and prays and wonders and +seeks comfort among her neighbors, the +daughter sleeps and dreams; and her +dream is this: The wingless Love looks +up and laughs as in welcome, and Hyacinthe +looks up too, and they both see +a new marble standing there in front of +them: nay, not a marble, though white +as Parian, for the eyes that laugh back +at Love's and hers are blue as the blue +Italian summer skies, and the curling +locks of hair on the brow are of shining +gold, and the palms of the beautiful +hands are rosy with the bright blood +of life.</p> +<p> +And Love asks, "What would you?"</p> +<p> +And the strange comer answers, "They +say I need nothing."</p> +<p> +And Hyacinthe in her dream says, "Is +what they say the truth?" But even while +she speaks the stranger sinks farther and +farther from her sight, his glad blue +eyes still laughing back at Love and her +as he fades into one with the darkness +afar off where Ariadne slumbers in sorrow. +And the wingless Love smiles +sadly as he speaks: "Seek your art, O +daughter of a Greek mother! and you +will find in it the answer to your question." +And Hyacinthe, sighing, wakes +in the dreary dusk of the first dawn.</p> +<p> +She was affrighted at first, and then +slowly there came upon her, with the +fast-increasing daylight, a great peace.</p> +<p> +"'Seek your art!'" the girl murmured +to herself, pushing back her dark locks +and gazing away toward the spot where +the hero of her dream had vanished. "So +will I, Cupid, and there I shall find the +answer to my question, to all questions; +for I shall find him whom my soul loveth. +Who was he, what was he, so resplendent +and shining among all these old Greeks? +Where shall I seek? Say, Cupid? But +you are a silent god, and will not answer +me. I know, I know," she cried, clasping +her slender hands together. "I will +go to my father's country, where, he +used to tell me, all the men are fair and +all the women good. There I shall find +my art and you, my Saxon god."</p> +<p> +When the mother heard of the dream +and the resolution she was sad at first, +but decided finally to write to the two +maiden sisters of Ernest King, who had +idolized their young, handsome brother, +and who answered promptly that they +would gladly receive his only daughter. +Hyacinthe took a brave and smiling +leave of the <i>madre</i> and Tancredi, after<a name="page224" id="page224"></a><span class="left">[page 224]</span> +having gone to look her farewell at the +wingless Love and the sleeping stricken +Ariadne. "Ah, dear Cupid," she whispered, +"I am going to-day to find my +art and the Saxon whom my soul loveth. +<i>Addio</i>, you and Ariadne!"</p> +<p> +From the old into the new, from the +tried to the untried, from inertness to +action, from the Greek marbles to Saxon +men and women, from Rome to Britain, +from breathing to living. Down the +Strand, past Villiers, Essex, Salisbury, +Northumberland and many more streets +whose names tell of vanished splendors, +whose dingy lengths are smoke-blackened, +and far enough off from the whole +aroma of Belgravia, is Craven street. +The houses are all of a pattern—prim, +dingy, small-windowed habitations, but +within this one there must be comfort, +for the fire-flames dance on the meek +minute panes and a heavy curl of smoke +is cutting the air above its square, business-like +little chimney-pot. Drawing-room +there is none to this mansion, but there +is a pleasant square substitute that the +Misses King call "the library" in the +mornings, and "the parlor" after their +early, unfashionable dinner. It is full +of old-time furniture, such as connoisseurs +are searching after now—dark +polished tables with great claws and little +claws; high presses and cupboards +brass bound and with numberless narrow +drawers; spindle-legged chairs, with +their worn embroidered backs and seats; +a tall thin bookcase; a haircloth sofa with +a griffin at either end mounting savage +guard over an erect pillow; a thick +hearth-rug; and two easy-chairs with +cushioned arms and two little old ladies, +the one quaint and frigid—she had once +loved and had had a successful rival; the +other quaint and sweet—she had loved +too, and had lost her lover in the depths +of the sea.</p> +<p> +The rattle of a cab down the still street, +a pull-up, a short, sharp knock, and in +two minutes more Hyacinthe King had +been welcomed kindly by one aunt and +tenderly pressed to the heart of the other. +A sober housemaid had taken her +wraps, and was even now unpacking +her boxes in the chamber above. She +was sitting in Miss Juliet's own armchair, +and had greatly surprised Ponto, +the ancient cat, by taking him into her +lap.</p> +<p> +"Will you ring for tea and candles, +sister?" asked Miss King primly.—"We +have had tea of course, Hyacinthe, but +we will have some infused for you at +once."</p> +<p> +"Perhaps Hyacinthe doesn't like tea," +suggested Miss Juliet with her thin, once-pretty +hand on the rope.</p> +<p> +"Not like tea? Absurd! Was not her +father an Englishman, I should like to +know? Our niece is not a heathen, +Juliet."</p> +<p> +"But, aunt," smiled Hyacinthe, "I do +not like tea, after all. You are both so +kind to me," sighed she: "I hope you +will not ever regret my coming to England +and to you."</p> +<p> +"It is not likely that our niece—"</p> +<p> +"That Ernest's daughter—" said Miss +Juliet softly.</p> +<p> +"Should ever do aught to give us cause +to blush—"</p> +<p> +"Save with pride and pleasure," added +the younger old lady, laying her fingers +on the girl's soft, dark, abundant hair.</p> +<p> +"I hope not, aunts." Hyacinthe looked +at Miss King a bit wistfully as she +spoke. "You know I am not come to +be a burden to you—the madre wrote: +I am come to England to pursue my +art."</p> +<p> +"My sister-in-law did—"</p> +<p> +"Your dear mother did—" Miss Juliet +chimed in gently.</p> +<p> +"Write something of the kind, but, +Hyacinthe, ladies do not go out into the +world seeking their fortunes. I believe +I have heard"—Miss King speaks austerely +and as from some pinnacle of +pride—"that there are <i>women</i> who write +and lecture and paint, and, in short, do +anything that is disgraceful; but you, +my dear, are not of that blood."</p> +<p> +"Yes, aunt, I am. I would do any +of those things—must do one of them or +something—to help me find my Saxon +god."</p> +<p> +"Your what?" cries Miss King, staring +over her spectacles at the serene, heroic +young face.</p> + +<a name="page225" id="page225"></a><span class="left">[page 225]</span> +<p> +"Your what, dear child?" murmurs +Miss Juliet protectively, looking down +into her niece's dark, fathomless eyes.</p> +<p> +"Saxon god," says she quite low, for +the first time in all her life experiencing +a conscious shyness.</p> +<p> +"Are you a pagan, Hyacinthe King?" +shrieks the elder aunt.</p> +<p> +"Tell us all about it, my dear," says +Miss Juliet soothingly.</p> +<p> +And Hyacinthe tells them her dream +and her resolve.</p> +<p> +"So much for an honest English gentleman +wedding with a—"</p> +<p> +"Lovely Greek girl," finishes Miss Juliet +quietly, glancing for the first time at +her sister. "They say your mother was +very beautiful, Hyacinthe."</p> +<p> +"Yes the madre is beautiful: she is +like the Venus of the Capitol."</p> +<p> +Miss King utters a woeful "Ah!" which +her sister endeavors to smother in some +kind inquiry.</p> +<p> +When Hyacinthe has been shown to +her room by the sober housemaid, the +two old ladies discuss the situation in +full, and Miss Juliet's gentleness so far +prevails over Miss King's frigid despair +as to wring from the latter a tardy promise +to let the young niece pursue the +frightful tenor of her way, at least for +a time.</p> +<p> +A week after her arrival in London, +the girl, having informed herself with a +marvellous quickness of intelligence on +various practical points, calmly laid her +plans before her aunts, the elder of whom +listened in frigid silence, the younger +with assurances of assistance and counsel. +She then proceeded to put her projects +into action with a curious matter-of-factness +that, considering the purely ideal +nature of her aim, is to be accounted for +in no other way than by the recollection +of her parentage—the Greek soul and +the British brain.</p> +<p> +On a Wednesday morning Hyacinthe +and Miss Juliet repaired to the studio of +a great sculptor: the niece had previously +written to him stating her desire, and the +aunt, nervous and excited, clung to the +girl's firm arm in a kind of terror.</p> +<p> +"You wish to know if you have a talent +for my art?" he asked kindly, looking +into the pallid young face with its +earnest uplifted look. "I think that had +you the least gift that way, having lived +in Rome, you would know it without my +assistance. However, here is a bit of +clay: we shall soon see. Try what your +fingers can make of it—if a cup like this +one." He turned off, but watched her, +nevertheless, with fixed curiosity as she +handled the lump of damp earth.</p> +<p> +Hyacinthe could make nothing of it +save twist it from one shapeless mass +into another.</p> +<p> +"I had hoped it would be sculpture," +she said a bit regretfully as she left the +great man's workroom. "In my dream +<i>he</i> was a statue."</p> +<p> +On Thursday the two went to the atelier +of a renowned painter. He too bent +curious interested eyes upon the absorbed +and searching face of his strange applicant +as he placed pencils, canvas and +brushes before her, and directed her to +look for a model to the simple vase that +stood opposite or to the bust of Clyte that +was beside her. But Hyacinthe had no +power over these things, and the two +turned their faces back toward the small +house in Craven street.</p> +<p> +On Friday they sought out a celebrated +musician, but the long, supple hands—veritable +"piano-hands" he noted from +the first—availed the girl in no way here. +The maestro said she "might spend years +in study, but the soul was not attuned to +it."</p> +<p> +When Saturday came they went to a +famous teacher for the voice. But, alas! +Hyacinthe, he said frankly, had "no divine +possibilities shrined in her mellow +tones." Perhaps she was a little, just a +little, disheartened on Saturday night. If +so, none knew it.</p> +<p> +On Sunday the old ladies took her to +St. Martin-le-Grand's church, but all she +said over the early cold dinner was, "Women +cannot preach in the churches. I +could not find him there."</p> +<p> +And Miss King said grace after that +meat in a loud and aggressive voice, but +Miss Juliet whispered a soft and sweet +"Amen."</p> +<p> +On Monday morning Hyacinthe slipped +from the house unseen. There was<a name="page226" id="page226"></a><span class="left">[page 226]</span> +a vein of subtlety and finesse in her that +came to the surface on occasion: it had +been in Haidée Amic and in her ancestors. +She repaired to a <i>maître de ballet</i>, +an old man who lived in an old house +in the East End.</p> +<p> +"Can you learn to dance, mademoiselle—learn +to dance 'superbly'?" repeated +the danseur after his applicant. +"Well, I should say no, most decidedly—never. +You have not a particle of +<i>chic</i>, coquetry: you were made for tragedy, +mademoiselle, and not for the airy, +indefinable graces of my art. You should +devote yourself to the drama."</p> +<p> +Hyacinthe looked up, and the old +Italian repeated his assertion, adding a +recommendation to seek an interview +with Mr. Arbuthnot, the proprietor and +manager of one of the principal theatres. +Before Hyacinthe returned to the +little domicile in Craven street she had +been enrolled as a member of the company +of this temple of the dramatic art.</p> +<p> +Arbuthnot was speculative, and withal +lucky: he had never brought out even a +"successful failure," and a something in +this odd young woman's beauty, earnestness, +frankness, pleased him. He gave +her the "balcony scene," of course, to +read to him; noted her poses, which were +singularly felicitous; knew at once that she +was not cast for the lovesick Veronese +maiden; was surprised to discover that +she was quite willing to follow his advice—to +begin in small parts and work her +way up if possible. The shrewd London +manager foresaw triumphs ahead when +the insignificant "Miss H. Leroy" should +pass into the actress Hyacinthe King.</p> +<p> +"Aunts, I went out by myself," the girl +says as she dawdles shyly over her newly-acquired +habit of tea-drinking that +evening, "because I knew—I fancied—that +you, Aunt Juliet, would not care to +go with me where I was going."</p> +<p> +"Yes, dear," says Miss Juliet, glad to +have the curious child of her favorite +brother back with her in safety.</p> +<p> +"A foolish and an unwarrantable step, +Hyacinthe, which I trust—I trust—you +will never repeat." Thus Miss King, +adding with severity, "May I inquire, +Hyacinthe, where you went?"</p> +<p> +"To Bozati the ballet-master first."</p> +<p> +"To whom?" Miss King draws forth +an old-fashioned salts-bottle, and Miss +Juliet glances nervously at the tea-tray. +"To whom? Can it be possible that my +niece, your father's daughter—No, no! +my ears deceive me."</p> +<p> +"He said I never could learn to be +anything more than a coryphée, aunt, +and I knew that that would not be accounted +an art," she says quite low. "But +I then went to Mr. Arbuthnot. You know +him, aunt?"</p> +<p> +"I have heard of such a person," answers +Miss King, peering austerely over +her spectacles at Hyacinthe.</p> +<p> +"He has engaged me at a salary of +two pounds a week, and he says that +some day I shall be great." Her eyes +dilate and look out afar, through the tiny +window-panes, into a limitless and superb +future. "I have found my art; and I am +so happy!"</p> +<p> +Miss Juliet's glance intercepts her sister's +speech. There is silence in the +quaint, small parlor that night; and for +the first time in many a year the memory +of her lost lover's first kiss rests softly +on Miss King's wan, wrinkled cheek: +for the first time in many a year she has +remembered the perfection of him and +forgotten the perfidy.</p> +<p> +That was October.</p> +<p> +This is June.</p> +<p> +"For thirty-seven consecutive nights +the girl has held the public of this great +capital spellbound by the magical power +of her art. She has great beauty—Greek +features lighted up by Northern vividness +and intellectuality; but transcendent +beauty falls to the lot of very many +actresses, yet it is not to be said of any +one of them that they have what this +unheralded, unknown girl possesses—tragic +genius such as thrilled through +the Hebrew veins of dead Rachel, and +flew from her, a magnetic current, straight +to the hearts and brains of her auditors. +Of such metal is made this new star. +She has as yet appeared but in one <i>rôle</i>, +that of Adrienne in Scribe's play, but +within the compass of its five acts she +runs the wild and weary gamut from +crowned love to crowned despair. It is<a name="page227" id="page227"></a><span class="left">[page 227]</span> +a new interpretation, and a remarkable +one—an interpretation that is tinged with +the blight of our inquisitive and mournful +age: self-consciousness, that terrible +tormentor in her soul, sits for ever in +judgment upon every impulse of the +heart of Adrienne, and makes of pain +a stinging poison, and of pleasure but +a poor potentiality. Her death-scene is +singular and awful—awful in its physical +adherence to realism, and singular in +that it does not disgust, or even horrify, +but leaves a memory of peace with the +listener, who has not failed to catch the +last strain for sight of the divine and +dying eyes." So the critic of the London +oracle wrote of Hyacinthe King.</p> +<p> +That night the people had crowned her +with a wreath of gold laurel-leaves, and +she was walking to her dressing-room, +when, as she passed the green-room +door, a merry laugh made her glance +in. There were fifty people there—actors, +journalists, swells and hangers-on +of the playhouse. A little to the right +of the group, and talking and laughing +with two or three others, stood a man +both young and handsome.</p> +<p> +Hyacinthe went toward him, and the +people, unused to seeing her there for +a long time past, hushed their talk, and +one of them marked the newness of the +light that shone in her eyes and the happiness +that smiled on her lips as she +came. He was a poet, and he went +home and made verses on her: he had +never thought of such a thing before. +She raised the wreath of laurel from her +brows and lifted it up to the golden head +of the man whose laugh she had caught. +"My Saxon god!" she murmured, so low +that none heard her save him, and then, +leaving the crown on his head, she turned +and walked away. She went home to +the shabby house in Craven street, which +was still her home, and before she slept +she whispered to Miss Juliet, "I have +found him."</p> +<p> +In less than twenty-four hours the +scene enacted in the green-room of the +theatre had been reported everywhere—first +in the clubs, then in all the salons—not +last in the pretty boudoir of Lady +Florence Ffolliott.</p> +<p> +Every night thereafter Hyacinthe saw +her hero sitting in his stall: he never +missed once, but generally came in +well on toward the end of the performance. +At the close of a fortnight, as +she was making her way to her room +after the curtain had come down for the +last time, she met him face to face: he +had planned it so.</p> +<p> +"What would you?" she asked in the +odd foreign fashion that clung to her +still, and showed itself when she was +taken unawares.</p> +<p> +"They say I need nothing;" and the +blue eyes laugh down into hers. "They +say I need nothing now that I have been +crowned by a King with laurel-leaves." +But even as he speaks the smile fades +from his lips: he sees no answering +flash on hers.</p> +<p> +"That is what you said in the Vatican +that night," she says. "Is it true?"</p> +<p> +He begins to fear that she is losing her +mind, but he speaks gently to her: "Have +we met before, then?"</p> +<p> +Hyacinthe, standing between two dusty +flies while the mirth of the farce rings +out from the stage, tells her dream, for +the third time, to-night to him. "Is it +true that you need nothing?" she asks +again, raising anxious eyes to his.</p> +<p> +For a moment the man wavers. Last +night he would have laughed to scorn the +idea of <i>his</i> not being ready with a pretty +speech for a beautiful actress: just now he +is puzzled for a reply, and he knows full +well that some strange new jarring hand +is sweeping the strings of his life. "It is +true," he sighs, remembering a true heart +that loves him. "I have wealth, position—these +things first, for they breed the +rest," he says with a small sneer—"troops +of friends and the promised hand of a woman +whom I have asked to marry me."</p> +<p> +"I am sorry," she says at last with a +child's sad, unconscious inflection, "but +all the same, I have found you. Cupid +said I should."</p> +<p> +He surveys her calculatingly: he is a +very keen man of the world, and he has +recovered sufficiently from the peculiarity +of the situation to speculate upon it +with true British acumen. Shall he, or +shall he not, put a certain question to<a name="page228" id="page228"></a><span class="left">[page 228]</span> +her, or leave the matter at rest for ever? +Being a person well used to gratifying +himself, he asks his question: "Supposing +that it had not been true, what would +you have had to say to me then?" And, +strange to say, his face flushes as he finishes—not +hers.</p> +<p> +"Nothing." The word comes coldly +forth without a fellow. He knows then +that she has only looked at Love, and +that the thoughtless harmony of his life +is done for him.</p> +<p> +"May I see you sometimes?" he cries +as she makes a step onward.</p> +<p> +"When you will," she replies, going +farther along the narrow passage, and +then looking back at him clearly. "I +have found you: I am very content. +And if you thought I loved you—Well, +Love, you know, was a blind god, and +so must ever be content to look at happiness +through another's eyes."</p> +<p> +He went away, and he said to himself, +"She does not know what love means."</p> +<p> +Night after night found him at the +theatre, and night after night saw him +seek at least a few moments' talk with +her; and always he came away thinking +her a colder woman than any of +the statues she was so fond of speaking +about. In her conversation there was +no personality; and although her intellect +pleased him, the lack of anything +else annoyed him in equal proportion. +And yet he loved the woman whom he +was going to marry. She was a sweet +woman—"God never made a sweeter," +he told himself a hundred times a day. +He had wooed her and won her, and +wished to make her his wife.</p> +<p> +She <i>was</i> a sweet woman. For weeks +now she had heard harsh rumors and +evil things of him that made her heart +ache, but she had given no sign, nor +would she have ever done so had not +her friends goaded her to the point. +She hears the light footstep coming +along the corridor toward her, and she +knows that it comes this morning at her +especial call. She sees the bonny face +and feels the light kiss on her cheek. +Heaven forgive her if she inwardly wonder +if these lips she loves have last rested +on another woman's face!</p> +<p> +"Roy," she says, stealing up to him +and laying one of her lovely round arms +about his neck, "tell me, dear, if you +have ceased to love me—if you would +rather—rather break our engagement? +Because, dear, better a parting now, before +it is too late, than a lifelong misery +afterward." There are tears in the blue +bewitching eyes, and tears in the gentle +voice that he is not slow to feel.</p> +<p> +"Florence"—the young man catches +her in his arms—"who has—What do +you mean? I have not ceased to love +you." All the fair fascination that has +made her so dear to him in the past +rushes over him now to her rescue.</p> +<p> +"Then, Roy, why, why—Oh, I cannot +say it!" Her pretty head, gold like +his own, falls on his shoulder.</p> +<p> +"Look up, love." He is not a coward, +whatever else. "You mean to say, 'Why +do I, a man professing to love one woman, +constantly seek the society of another?' +Do not you?"</p> +<p> +She bows her head, her white lids +droop. There is a pause so long that +the ticking of the little clock on the +mantel seems a noise in the stillness. +He puts her out of his arms, rises, picks +up a newspaper, throws it down, and +says, "God help me! I don't know." +Then another pause; and now the ticking +of the little clock is fairly riotous. +"Florence, love," kneeling by her, "bear +with me. It's a fascination, an infatuation—an +intellectual disloyalty to you, +if you will—but it is nothing more, and +it must die out soon."</p> +<p> +Lady Dering was a charming woman: +all her friends agreed upon that point, +and also upon another—that an invitation +to visit Stokeham Park was equivalent +to a guarantee for so many days +of unalloyed pleasure. It was a grand +old place, not quite three hours from +town, with winding broad avenues and +glimpses of sweeping smooth lawns between +the oaks and beeches. And the +company which the mistress of Stokeham +had gathered about her this autumn +was, if possible, a more congenial +and yet varied one than usual. Having +no children of her own, Lady Dering<a name="page229" id="page229"></a><span class="left">[page 229]</span> +enjoyed especially the society of young +people, and generally contrived to have +a goodly number of them about her—Mildred +and Mabel Masham, Lady Isobel +French, Lady Florence Ffolliott, her +cousin the little Viscount Harleigh—who +was very far gone in love with his uncle's +daughter, by the by—the Hon. Hugh Leroy +Chandoce and a host of others.</p> +<p> +Her ladyship, telegram in hand, has +just knocked at Florence Ffolliott's door. +Florence is a special favorite with the old +lady: she approves thoroughly of her engagement, +which was formally announced +at Stokeham last year, and of the man of +her choice, who at the present moment +is lighting a cigar and cogitating in a +somewhat ruffled frame of mind over +the piece of news he has just been made +acquainted with by his hostess.</p> +<p> +"Florence, my dear," says her ladyship, +"I am the most fortunate woman +in the world. I have been longing +for a new star in my domestic firmament, +and, behold! it dawns. I expected +to have her here some time, but +not so early as this; and the charming +creature sends me a telegram that she +arrives by the eleven-o'clock express +this morning: I have just sent to the +station for her. I met Roy on my way +to you, and conveyed the intelligence +to him, but of course he only looked immensely +bored: these absurd men! they +never can take an interest in but one +woman at a time." Lady Florence's +quick color came naturally enough. +"Now, my child, guess the name of +the new luminary."</p> +<p> +"I'm quite sure I can't," says the girl, +her roses paling to their usual pink. "Tell +me, dear Lady Dering: suspense is terrible;" +and she laughs merrily.</p> +<p> +"Hyacinthe King, the great actress, +my dear: could anything be more delicious?" +Lady Dering has been absent +on the Continent during the season, and +is utterly ignorant of all the <i>on dits</i> of +the day.</p> +<p> +"Charming!" murmurs Florence Ffolliott +with the interested inflection of thorough +good breeding; but her hands, lying +clasped together on her lap, clasp each +other cruelly.</p> +<p> +"Yes," continues her ladyship. "I knew +her father in my young days—Ernest +King—the Kings of Essex, you know?" +Florence nods assent. "He was the +handsomest fellow imaginable, married +a lovely Greek girl; and here comes his +daughter startling the world with her +genius twenty odd years after my little +flirtation with him. It makes one feel +old, child—old. I called on her the last +day I was in London, but she was out; +so then I wrote and begged her to come +to Stokeham when she could. Now I +must leave you, dear. What are you +reading? Poetry, of course. I never +read anything else either when I was +your age and was engaged to Sir Harry." +The bright, stately lady laughs gayly as +she goes, and Florence Ffolliott sits before +her fire until luncheon-time, turning +over a dozen wild fancies in her brain—fancies +that do no honor either to the +man she loves or the woman whom she +cannot help disliking heartily. But her +just, and withal generous, soul dismisses +them at last, and she bows her head to the +blow and acknowledges it to be what it is—an +accident.</p> +<p> +That the advent of Hyacinthe King in +their midst should have created no sensation +among the party assembled at +Stokeham would scarcely be a reasonable +proposition: it did, and not only +the excitement that the coming of a renowned +meteor of the theatrical firmament +might be expected to occasion in +a house full of British subjects, but an +undertone of surmise, and some sarcasms, +between those—the majority—who +were well enough aware of Roy +Chandoce's peculiar infatuation for the +beautiful young player. The pair were +watched keenly, it must be confessed, +but with a courtesy and <i>savoir faire</i> that +admitted no betrayal of this absolutely +human curiosity—by none more keenly +and more guardedly than by Lady Florence +Ffolliott. Neither she nor they discovered +aught in the conduct of either +the man or the woman to find fault with +or cavil at.</p> +<p> +Hyacinthe was quickly voted a "man's +woman" by the women, and as quickly +pronounced a "thorough enigma" by the<a name="page230" id="page230"></a><span class="left">[page 230]</span> +men, not one of whom had succeeded, +even after the lapse of fourteen days, +in arousing in her that which is most +dear to the masculine soul, a preference—although it be a mild, a shamming or +an evanescent preference—for one of +them above another. Sir Vane Masham +set her down over his third dinner's +sherry as "an iceberg," in which +kind opinion the little viscount joined, +with the amendment of "polar refrigerator." +Young Arthur French, who was +very hard hit indeed, said she was like a +"beautiful, heartless marble statue," but +the poet, who had made verses on her, +called her a "white lily with a heart of +flame."</p> +<p> +Not one of them all, however, could +dispute the perfect quality of her beauty +to-night. In a robe of violet satin, with +pale jealous topazes shining on her neck +and arms and in the sleek braids of her +dark hair, Hyacinthe was fit for the regards +of emperors had they been there +to see. They were not. In the conservatory +at Stokeham, where she stood +amid the tropical trees and flowers and +breathing the warm close scent of rich +blossoms foreign to English soil, there +was only one man to look at her, and +he was no potentate, but a blond young +fellow, with blue blood in his veins and +a sad riot in his heart.</p> +<p> +For the first time since they have been +in the house together he has left his betrothed +wife's side and sought hers: in +the face of this little watching world +about him he has, at last, quietly risen +from the seat at Florence Ffolliott's side +and followed that trail of sheeny satin +into the conservatory. "Not one word +for me?" he says in a low voice that +has in it a sort of desperation.</p> +<p> +She turns startled and looks at him: +"Who wants me? Who sent you to +fetch me?"</p> +<p> +"No one 'sent' me," he replies bitterly: +"I 'want' you. Hyacinthe! Hyacinthe!" +He stretches two arms out +toward her, and when he dies Roy +Chandoce remembers the look that +leaps then into the eyes of this girl.</p> +<p> +"Do not touch me!" She shrinks +away with the expression of awakened +womanhood on her fair face. "If +you do, you will make me mad." For +he has followed and is close to her.</p> +<p> +"No, no, no! Not 'mad'—happy! +Ah, Hyacinthe!" His arms are no more +outstretched or empty: they enfold all +the beauty and all the bliss that now +and then give mortality fresh faith in +heaven. "Ah, Hyacinthe!" That is all +that he says, and she is silent while his +kisses fall upon her mouth and cheeks +and brow and hands.</p> +<p> +And when, ten minutes later, he goes +back where he came from, he knows that +it is no "intellectual disloyalty" that lured +him from his seat: he knows that the poet +was right, and Vane and the viscount and +Arthur all wrong.</p> +<p> +There is to be a meet at Stokeham Park +the next morning, and Hyacinthe, for the +first time in her life, witnesses the pretty +sight. Two or three only of the ladies +are going to ride to cover, among them +Lady Florence Ffolliott, who looks superbly +on her horse and in her habit, +and feels superbly too—in a transient +physical fashion—as she glances down +at Hyacinthe, who in her clinging creamy +gown, with a furred cloak thrown about +her, stands in the porch to see them off. +She knows nothing of horses or riding, +and is therefore debarred from the exhilarating +pleasure, and has also declined +Lady Dering's offer to drive with her to +the first cover that is to be drawn. But +the pretty and, to her, novel picture of +the various vehicles with their freight of +merry matrons, girls and children, the +scarlet coats of the sportsmen and the +servants, the hounds drawn up a good +piece off, the four ladies who are going +to ride, and stately, cheery Lady Dering +exchanging cordial and courteous greetings +with her friends and neighbors, while +good-hearted Sir Harry gives some last +instructions to his whip, is sufficiently +charming.</p> +<p> +"You have eaten no breakfast, Mr. +Chandoce," cries the hostess, "and you +are quite as white as Lady Florence's +glove there. I insist upon your taking +a glass of something before you are off.—Patrick!" But before Patrick has even +started on my lady's errand Hyacinthe<a name="page231" id="page231"></a><span class="left">[page 231]</span> +has fetched from the hall a glass of claret-cup, +and holds it up to him where he sits +on his lithe and mettlesome hunter.</p> +<p> +He takes it, drains it to the last drop +and hands it back to her. Their eyes +meet, and his lips murmur very softly a +Saxon's sweetest word of endearment—"My darling!"</p> +<p> +"Quarter-past eleven!" calls Sir Harry; +and the gay cavalcade moves off, +and Hyacinthe, waving adieu to Lady +Dering, watches it fade away among +the windings of the avenue.</p> +<p> +"Mr. Chandoce has a green mount," +mutters one of the footmen to another.</p> +<p> +"Yes, he have, but he's not a green +horseman."</p> +<p> +"No," admits the other.</p> +<p> +Hyacinthe remembers their talk later +in the day—that day that she passes in +such a restless wandering from one room +to another—from the conservatory to the +library, and from music-room to hall. +Finally, at four o'clock she has composed +herself with a book in the library, +and before the fire sits half lost in reading, +half in wondering. Without, the +early gloom of the short day is gathering, +and the bare trees cast murk shadows +all across the frostbitten lawns, and +late birds twitter their good-night notes, +and a few sleepy rooks caw coldly to +each other.</p> +<p> +She hears none of this, is as self-absorbed +a being as ever lived—one whose whole +solitude is full to overflowing with the +thought of another. But at last there +breaks in upon Hyacinthe's still dream +a shriek, and then wild tumult, noises +and excited speech, and the girl springs +to her feet, and in a flash is out in the +wide hall in the very midst of it all.</p> +<p> +He lies there quite, quite dead. For +ever flown the breath that made of this +beautiful clay a living man. Lady Florence +has him halfway in her arms as she +kneels on the floor beside the body of +her lover, and between her sobs cries +out to them to "Go for the surgeons!" +for whom long since Sir Harry sent. +Hyacinthe put her hands behind her +and leaned heavily against the column +that by good chance she found there. +When the crowd parted from him a little +she leaned over a bit and stared: +that was all.</p> +<p> +"Do not <i>you</i> touch him!" cried the +English maiden, maddened by her grief, +as she glanced up at the fair face.</p> +<p> +"No, I will not: I do not wish to," +returns the other softly, straightening +herself; and leaning there in her close +gown, she is as tearless as some caryatid.</p> +<p> +When the surgeons have come on their +useless mission, and gone, when Florence +Ffolliott stands weeping and wringing her +hands, Hyacinthe ventures over a pace +nearer to the two.</p> +<p> +"You see, Lady Florence," she says +very gently, and with that curious sorrowful +look on her face that made it so like +to the Ariadne's—"you see, he was not +meant for any woman: he was a Saxon +god."</p> +<p> +A year later Lady Florence Ffolliott's +engagement to her cousin, the little lovelorn +viscount, was announced.</p> +<p> +Sir Henry Leighton told me last week +that he had been called in consultation +with regard to Hyacinthe King, and that +there were not three months of life in +her. "She cannot act," said the great +medical man: "she plays her parts, it +is true, but the power to portray has +gone out of her. She is going back to +Rome for a while, and, I can assure +you, she will never return."</p> + +<p class="author"><span class="sc">Marguerite F. Aymar.</span></p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page232" id="page232"></a><span class="left">[page 232]</span> + + +<h2>MUSICAL NOTATION.</h2> + +<p> +Why is it that the knowledge of +music is not more common?—that +is, why is it that there are so few +people in this and every other country +who are able to read and write music as +they read and write their mother-tongue? +Is it that the musical ear is a rare gift? +Evidently not, for music is composed of +a small number of elements, which are +found for the most part in any popular +air, and almost every person can sing +one or more of these airs correctly. It +is not, then, the musical ear nor the sense +of time which is wanting. Neither is the +cause to be attributed to the fact that few +study music; for, although the teaching +of music is by no means so general as it +should be, still it is taught in our schools, +public and private, singing-schools are +common even in our small villages, and +there is no lack of teachers both of vocal +and instrumental music. And yet out of +every hundred who take up the study of +music, it is safe to say that about ninety +abandon it after a short time, discouraged +by the almost insurmountable difficulties +presented at every turn. Only those succeed +who are endowed with rare natural +aptitude, an indomitable will, and time—four +or five years at least—to devote to +an art which is as yet a luxury to the +masses of the people.</p> +<p> +M. Galin, his pupil M. Chevé and other +advocates of reform in musical notation +declare that the people are deprived of +this grand source of culture because of +the blind, inconsistent and wholly unscientific +nature of the ordinary musical +notation. At first this seems incredible, +but one has only to compare this notation +with that elaborated by Émile Chevé +after Galin's theory to become convinced +that the statement is true. People are +apt to say, "Why, it cannot be that our +system of writing music is so defective: +in this age of improvements and scientific +precision gross inconsistencies would +have been eliminated long ago." And +so, indeed, they would have been but +for the fact that the very basis of the +system is altogether at fault. How are +the Chinese, for example, to "improve" +their system of writing? It is simply +impossible. They have some thousands +of abstract characters, hieroglyphs standing +for things or thoughts. All these +must be swept away, and in their place +must come an alphabet where each letter +stands for an elementary sound. These +elementary sounds are few in number +in any language. So of our musical +notation. It is doubtful if it can be +materially improved; it must be discarded +for a system of fewer elements +and a more clear and precise combination +of them.</p> +<p> +No, it is not strange that we have not +adopted a better method of musical notation +before this. Think how long a +struggle it required to abandon the cumbersome +Roman notation for the short, +clear and precise Arabic—how many +centuries of feeble infancy the science of +mathematics passed before the invention +of logarithms rendered the most tedious +calculations rapid and easy. Most people +take things as they seem, giving but little +thought to their meanings and relations +to each other; and so an awkward +method may be followed a long time +without protest. People are blamed +for their devotion to routine, but devotion +to routine is perfectly natural. It +is mental inertia, and corresponds to +that property in physics—the inability +of a body of itself to start when at rest, or +stop or change its course when in motion. +And then the general distrust of +new things—"new-fangled notions," as +contempt terms them—retards the examination +and adoption of improved +and labor-saving methods.</p> +<p> +It is more than fifty years since Pierre +Galin, professor of mathematics in the +institute for deaf mutes at Bordeaux, +published his <i>Exposition d'une nouvelle +Méthode pour l'Enseignement de la +Musique</i>, and more than thirty since<a name="page233" id="page233"></a><span class="left">[page 233]</span> +his distinguished disciple, Émile Chevé, +demonstrated practically, in the military +gymnasium at Lyons, the immeasurable +superiority of that method; and yet such +is the repugnance of teachers of music to +any change in their routine that they have +paid little or no attention to the work of +Galin and his followers. The <i>Méthode +élémentaire de la Musique vocale</i>, by M. +and Mme. Émile Chevé, has never been +translated into English. It was published +in Paris by the authors in 1851—a work +of over five hundred pages in royal octavo, +and a most clear and exhaustive exposition +of the method which they followed +with such success.</p> +<p> +In proof of the superiority of that +method, an account of M. Chevé's test-experiment +at the military gymnasium +at Lyons in 1843 will be interesting. +The gymnasium was at that time under +the direction of two officers of the French +army, Captain d'Argy and Lieutenant +Grenier. The facts are taken from their +official report of the experiment.</p> +<p> +By order of Lieutenant-General Lascours +the soldiers of the gymnasium +were placed at the disposition of M. +Chevé, that he might make a trial of +his method. General Lascours further +ordered that the officers in charge of the +gymnasium should be present at every +lesson, and report carefully the progress +of the pupils and the final results of the +course.</p> +<p> +The members of the class were taken +at large from the twelfth, sixteenth and +twenty-ninth regiments of the line, fifty +from each. M. Chevé accepted all as +they came, and agreed formally to bring +eight-tenths of the class of one hundred +and fifty in one year to the following results: +(1) To understand the theory of +music analytically; (2) To sing alone +and without any instrument any piece +of music within the compass of ordinary +voices; (3) To write improvised airs from +dictation.</p> +<p> +"Candor compels us to admit," says +the report, "that nearly all of the soldiers +showed the greatest repugnance +to attending the course, and did so +only because they were ordered to do +so. Several months elapsed before this +bad spirit could be conquered, and before +the majority of them could be brought to +practise the vocal exercises. Some even +refused to try to sing, on the ground that +they were old, that they had no voice, +that they could not read, etc."</p> +<p> +The first lesson took place October 1, +1842. There were five a week, of an +hour and a half each. At the end of +the month the professor wished to classify +the voices, and required each pupil +to sing alone. The experiment was rather +discouraging. <i>More than two-thirds +were unable to sing the scale</i>: twelve refused +to utter a sound, and declared that +nothing would induce them to try. These +twelve were immediately dismissed. The +rest remained, though some confessed +that they had not sung a note since the +beginning of the course. These, however, +now promised to practise all the +exercises in future. Under these unfavorable +circumstances the professor engaged +anew to fulfil his contract, on condition +that the pupils would submit to +practise the exercises conscientiously and +attend regularly. From this time, with +the exception of three or four rebellious +spirits, none were rejected.</p> +<p> +The month of October was not very +profitable to the pupils, on account of +continual absences necessitated by military +reviews. April and May of the following +year (1843) also brought many interruptions +through the various demands +of the service. Sickness, promotions, +punishments, mutations, and the disbanding +of the class of 1836, which took +away several under-officers, gradually +reduced the class, so that in July only +a little over fifty were left. This falling +off greatly troubled Professor Chevé, especially +when the army at Lyons went +into camp and left him with only twenty-eight +pupils. This reduction of the class +could not have been foreseen or prevented. +M. Chevé could not be held responsible +for the fulfilment of his promise, +except to eight-tenths of those that remained.</p> +<p> +Two months after the opening of the +course M. Chevé printed at his own expense +a collection of one hundred and +forty pieces of music from the best composers,<a name="page234" id="page234"></a><span class="left">[page 234]</span> +and gave a copy to each of his +pupils, that they might read from the +printed page instead of the blackboard. +Three months after the opening of the +course General Lascours visited the gymnasium +and was present during one of +the lessons. He was struck, as were all +the visitors on that occasion, by the progress +obtained. The pupils were already +far advanced in intonation and in time: +they read easily in all the keys, and sung +pieces together with great spirit and correctness.</p> +<p> +On April 25, 1843, the general returned, +accompanied by Madame Lascours and +all the officers of his staff. The following +was the programme of the occasion: +(1) A quartette from Webbe; (2) A Languedoc +air in three parts, from Desrues; +(3) A trio from the opera of <i>Œdipus in +Colonna</i>, by Sacchini; (4) Singing at sight +intervals of all kinds, major and minor; +(5) Singing at sight in eight different +keys; (6) Two rounds in three voices +from Siller; (7) A quartette from the +<i>Clemenza di Tito</i> of Mozart; (8) A quartette +from the <i>Iphigenia</i> of Gluck; (9) A +trio from the <i>Corysander</i>, or the <i>Magic +Rose</i> of Berton; (10) Exercise upon the +tonic in all the keys, major and minor; +(11) Exercise in naming notes vocalized; +(12) Singing at sight a trio from +the <i>Magic Flute</i> of Mozart; (13) <i>Ave +Regina</i>, by Choron—three voices; (14) +The <i>Gondolier</i>, a round in three parts, +by Desrues; (15) A quartette from the +<i>Magic Flute</i>; (16) Chorus from the <i>Tancredi</i> +of Rossini; (17) The "Prayer" from +<i>Joseph</i>, by Méhul.</p> +<p> +This is certainly a remarkable programme +to be filled by illiterate soldiers +with only six months' training. +"It would be difficult," says the official +report, "to paint the astonishment of the +spectators upon this occasion. The confidence +and readiness with which these +soldier-students of music sang at sight +the most difficult intonations, major and +minor, the facility with which they read +in all the keys, and, finally, the certainty +and spontaneity with which they <i>all, +without exception</i>, recognized and named +various sounds vocalized, showed clearly +that they possessed a very superior knowledge +of intonation. All the pieces which +they sung were rendered with irreproachable +correctness, though the professor +did not beat the time, except through +the first bar to indicate the movement.</p> +<p> +"With the consent of General Lascours, +all the teachers and professors +in the city, including the members of +the Royal College, were on one occasion +admitted to a private rehearsal of +M. Chevé's class. The result was the +same—admiration and astonishment. +The professor received on all sides well-merited +praise for a success gained in so +short a time and with such unfavorable +conditions.</p> +<p> +"These soldiers have at this moment +(September 1, 1843) reached a degree +of power in intonation and in reading +music at sight which is fairly wonderful. +They can sing together at sight any new +piece in three or four parts, the music +being written, after the new method, in +figures. If the piece be written in the +ordinary musical character, no matter +what the key, they can also sing it at +sight together after they have together +sung each part by itself. All the members +of the class understand thoroughly +the theory of music, and are able to +write from dictation a vocalized air +never heard before, no matter what +the modulations may be.</p> +<p> +"Such are the results obtained by Professor +Chevé from a mass of men taken +at hazard and against their will. The experiment +to-day has had eleven months +of duration, seventeen or eighteen lessons +being given every month. The +pupils have never studied at all between +the lessons, and those who remain +at the present time have lost many +lessons from punishments, illness, leave +of absence, etc.</p> +<p> +"As to the method pursued by M. +Chevé, it is as follows: In theory he +demonstrates <i>de facto</i> the inequality of +major and minor seconds, and from this +he deduces the theory of the gamut. Here +he follows in the footsteps of his master, +Galin. The theory of time he takes from +the same source. In practice, he employs +the Arabic figures for the musical +notes, as proposed by J. J. Rousseau<a name="page235" id="page235"></a><span class="left">[page 235]</span> +and modified by Galin, using a series of +exercises created by Madame Chevé. To +these exercises especially does M. Chevé +owe his ability to make his pupils masters +of intonation in an incredibly short +time. He teaches time by itself, using +a language of durations invented by the +father of Madame Chevé, M. Aimé Paris, +and tables of exercises in time made by +Madame Chevé. Transposition is also +taught separately, and never does M. +Chevé require his pupils to execute +two things simultaneously until they +understand perfectly how to do them +separately.</p> +<p> +"In this way M. Chevé leads his pupils +through every step of the theory of +music until they are able to read <i>in the +ordinary notation</i> every kind of music, +and to execute during any piece all the +possible changes of mode or key."</p> +<p> +The report—which is duly signed by +the officers having charge of the gymnasium—ends +with the expression of their +"profound conviction that the method of +teaching music employed by Professor +Chevé is faultless, if it may be judged +by its practical results."</p> +<p> +There is a very common impression, +in this country at least, that the best new +method of writing music has been tried +and abandoned, weighed in the balance +and found wanting. This is far +from the fact. It is doubtful if there is +one person in a hundred in this country +who ever heard even the name of Galin or +Chevé. Some twenty years ago there was +a little interest excited in a new method +of musical notation. A class was formed +in Lowell, Massachusetts, and a "singing-book" +was used there with the notes +written with numerals on the staff instead +of the usual characters. But it could not +have been the Chevé method that the +Lowell professor used, for he employed +no new system of teaching time—a prime +characteristic of that method.</p> +<p> +Those who examine the subject fairly +will be compelled to take the position +held by Galin, Chevé and their school, +that a new method of writing music is +imperatively needed, because that now +in use lacks the essential elements of a +scientific system: it is neither simple, +clear nor concise. There are certain +elementary principles which must be +observed in the exposition of any science, +and especially in that of music, +which is addressed to all classes of intelligence. +Among these principles are +the following, as stated by M. Chevé: +<i>1st</i>. Every idea should be presented to +the mind by a clear and precise symbol. +<i>2d</i>. The same idea should always be presented +by the same sign: the same sign +should always represent the same idea. +<i>3d</i>. Elementary textbooks or methods +should never present two difficulties to +the mind at the same time; and such +textbooks or methods should be an assemblage +of means adapted to aid ordinary +intelligences to gain the object proposed. +<i>4th</i>. The memory should never +be drawn upon except where reasoning +is impossible.</p> +<p> +Let us test the exposition of the ordinary +musical notation, and also that of +the school of Galin, by these principles +and compare the results.</p> +<p> +<i>First</i>. Is every idea presented by a +clear and precise symbol?</p> +<p> +In the ordinary method, certainly not. +The musical sounds or notes are represented +by elliptical curves with or without +stems; by spots or dots with plain +stems, or with stems having from one +to four appendages, or with these appendages +united, forming bars across +the stems. These curves and dots are +placed on the five parallel lines of a +staff, as it is called, or between the lines +of this staff, or on or between added or +"ledger" lines above and below the staff. +Certainly, these cannot be called precise +symbols, especially when we reflect that +<i>any one of them placed upon any given +line or space may represent successively +do, ré, mi, fa, sol, la, si</i>, or the flats or +sharps of these notes. The notes, indeed, +have no names, being all alike for the +various notes; but names are given to +the lines and spaces of the staff; and, +alas! the names of these lines and spaces +change continually with the change of +key or pitch. For example: if we commence +a scale with C, our <i>do</i> will be on +the first added line below the staff, and +its octave, <i>do</i>, on the third space counting <a name="page236" id="page236"></a><span class="left">[page 236]</span> +from the lowest. If we commence a +scale with G, our <i>do</i> will be on the second +line from the bottom, and the octave +on the first space above the staff; and +so on for all the other scales except those +which commence a semitone below or +above. For example: the scales of the +key of G and of G flat would be placed +exactly the same upon the staff, though +the signature of G would be one sharp +upon the staff at the beginning, and that +of G flat would be six flats. The same +may be said of the keys of D and D flat, +F and F sharp, etc.</p> +<p> +Again: the scales of the keys of G flat +and of F sharp are the same—are played +on precisely the same keys of the organ +or piano—yet they are placed on different +lines and spaces of the staff, and +the signature of the first is six flats, and +of the second six sharps.</p> +<p> +Think of the disheartened state of the +victim of this notation when he has learned +to read comfortably in one key, and +then, taking up a piece of music written +in another key, finds that he has all the +lines and spaces to relearn! The wonder +is that he does not lose his wits altogether.</p> +<p> +Compare this maze of notes and lines +and spaces, for ever changing like a will-o'-the +wisp, with the following:</p> + +<table align="center" width="50%" summary="octaves"> +<tr> + <td class="main">Low Octave.<br /></td> + <td class="main">Middle Octave.<br /></td> + <td class="main">High Octave.<br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td class="main1"><br /><br /><tt>1234567<br />•••••••</tt></td> + <td class="main1"><br /> <tt>1234567</tt></td> + <td class="main1"><tt>•••••••<br />1234567</tt></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<p> +Here everything is as clear as day. Take +any note—as <b>5</b>, for example. This is +<i>sol</i>—always <i>sol</i>, and never by any chance +anything else. If it has a dot under, it +is <i>sol</i> of the octave below the middle; if +it has no dot, it belongs to the middle +octave; and if it has a dot above, it belongs +to the octave above the middle. +These three octaves are amply sufficient +for all the purposes of vocal music, which +alone is considered here. For instrumental +music, where many octaves are +used, the system is modified without losing +its simplicity and conciseness. To represent +the flats, Galin crosses the numerals +with a line like the grave accent, and +marks the sharps by a line like the acute +accent.<br /> +For example, <img src="images/181-2a.png" width="163" height="16" alt="flats" border="0" /> +represent <i>do</i> flat, <i>ré</i> flat, <i>mi</i> flat, etc.: +<img src="images/182-1a.png" width="170" height="16" alt="sharps" border="0" /> represent <i>do</i> sharp, <i>ré</i> +sharp, <i>mi</i> sharp, etc.</p> + +<p> +A score of music in the new style of +notation has no signature—that is, no +flats or sharps at the beginning. Above +the line of numerals is written simply +"Key of G," "Key of A flat," etc. The +pitch, of course, must be taken from the +tuning-fork or a musical instrument, as +it is in all cases.</p> +<p> +<i>Second</i>. The same idea should always +be presented by the same sign: the same +sign should always represent the same +idea.</p> +<p> +It has already been shown how this +principle is disregarded; but take, for +further illustration, the symbols indicating +silence. There are seven different +kinds of rests, and there is no need of +more than one. These signs are:</p><br /> +<a name="p236-1" id="p236-1"></a> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus-182-1-400.jpg" width="400" height="58" alt="Illustration of music rest symbols." border="0" /><br /><br /> + +</p><br /><br /> + +<p> +Again: these rests may be followed by +one or two dots, which increase their +duration. For example: an eighth-note +rest dotted equals an eighth note and a +sixteenth; and followed by two dots it +equals an eighth, a sixteenth and a thirty-second +note in time. That is, the first +dot prolongs the rest one-half or a sixteenth, +and the second dot prolongs the +value of the first dot one-half or a thirty-second.</p> +<p> +To a disciple of Galin it is really amazing +that such a bungling, unscientific +way of expressing silence should have +been tolerated so long. Compare these +"pot-hooks and trammels," dotted and +double-dotted, with Galin's symbol of +silence, the cipher (0)! This is all, and +yet it expresses every length of rest, as +will be shown presently.</p> +<p> +Let us now examine the symbols representing +the prolongation of a sound. +There are three ways by the common +notation, where there should be but one. +First, by the form of the note itself, as—</p> +<a name="p236-2" id="p236-2"></a> +<p class="center"> +<img src="images/illus-182-2-400.jpg" width="400" height="63" alt="Illustration of musical note symbols." border="0" /><br /><br /> +</p><br /><br /> + + +<p> +Second, by one or more dots after a note, +the first dot prolonging the note one-half, +and the second dot prolonging the first<a name="page237" id="page237"></a><span class="left">[page 237]</span> +in the same ratio. Third, by the repetition +of the note with a vinculum or tie, +the second note not being sung or played. +Galin uses simply a dot. It may be +repeated, as a rest or a note may, but +then <i>its value is not changed</i>, any more +than in the case of notes or rests repeated. +For example:</p> + + +<table align="center" border="0" summary="snippet"> +<tr> + <td class="main">KEY OF E.<br /><br /></td> + <td> </td> +</tr> + +<tr> + <td class="main1" valign="top"> <tt>1|3556|5•31|</tt></td> + <td class="main1" valign="top"><span style="line-height: 90%"><tt>7143|3•21|</tt></span><br />•</td> +</tr> + +</table> +<p> +Here are the first measures of a well-known +hymn in common time, four +beats to the measure. As all isolated +signs, whether notes, prolongations or +rests, fill a unit of time, or beat, it follows +that the dots following <i>sol</i> and <i>mi</i> +prolong these through an entire beat, +for the dots are isolated signs. Whatever +the time, <i>each unit of it appears +separate and distinct to the eye at a +glance</i>; and all the notes, rests or prolongations +that fill a beat are always +united in a special way. This will be +more fully shown hereafter.</p> +<p> +<i>Third</i>. Elementary textbooks or methods +should never present two difficulties +to the mind at the same time; and such +textbooks or methods should be an assemblage +of means adapted to aid ordinary +intelligences to gain the object proposed.</p> +<p> +The first thing that the student of music +encounters is a staff of five lines, armed +with flats or sharps, the signature of the +key, or with no signature, which shows +that the music upon it is in the key of +C. On this staff he sees notes which are +of different pitch, and probably of different +length. In any case, there are at +least three difficulties presented in a +breath—to find the name of the note, +give it its proper sound, and then its +proper length; and these difficulties +are still greater because the ideas, as +we have seen, are hidden under defective +symbols.</p> +<p> +Take all the teachers of vocal music, +says M. Chevé, place them upon their +honor, and let them answer the following +question: "How many readers of +music can you guarantee by your method, +out of a hundred pupils taken at random +and entirely ignorant of music, by +one hour of study a day during one +year?" The reply, he thinks, will be: +"Not many." And if you tell them that +by another method you will agree in the +same time to teach eighty in a hundred +to read music currently, and also to write +music, new to them, dictated by an instrument +placed out of sight or from the +voice "vocalizing," they will all declare +that the thing is impossible.</p> +<p> +The great composers and renowned +performers are cited as examples of what +the ordinary methods have accomplished. +No, replies Chevé: they are exceptional +organizations. The methods have +not produced them. They have, on the +contrary, arrived at their proficiency despite +the methods, while thousands fail +who might reach a high degree of excellence +but for the obstacles presented by +a false system to a clear understanding +of the theory of music, which in itself is +so simple and precise. In the study of +harmony especially, says the same authority, +does the want of a clear presentation +of the theory produce the most deplorable +results. It has made the science +of harmony wellnigh unintelligible even +to those called musicians. Ask them why +flats and sharps are introduced into the +scales; why there is one sharp in the key +of G major and five in B major; why +you spoil the minor scale by making it +one thing in ascending and another in +descending—that is, by robbing it of its +modal superior in ascending and of its +sensible in descending. They will in +most cases be unable to answer, for neither +teachers nor textbooks explain. The +catechisms found in most of the elementary +works upon music are replete with +stumbling-blocks to the young musician. +Mr. R. H. Palmer, author of <i>Elements of +Musical Composition, Rudimental Class-Teaching</i> +and several other works, says +in one of his catechisms that "there are +two ways of representing each intermediate +tone. If its tendency is upward, +it is represented upon the lower of two +degrees, and is called sharp; if its tendency +is downward, it is represented upon +the higher of two degrees, and is called +flat. There are exceptions to this, as +to all rules." This is deplorable. Music<a name="page238" id="page238"></a><span class="left">[page 238]</span> +is a mathematical science, and in +mathematics there is no such thing as +an exception to a rule. But to quote +further from the same catechism: "A +natural is used to cancel the effect of a +previous sharp or flat. If the tendency +from the restored tone is upward, the +natural has the capacity of a sharp; if +downward, the capacity of a flat. A +tone is said to resolve when it is followed +by a tone to which it naturally +tends." How long would novices in the +science of music rack their brains before +they would comprehend what the teacher +meant by a tone tending somewhere +"naturally," or by the tendency of a +restored tone being destroyed by the +"capacity of a flat"? The same writer, +speaking of the scale of G flat, says it is +a "remarkable feature of this scale that +it is produced upon the organ and piano +by pressing the same keys which are required +to produce the scale of F sharp." +This is precisely equivalent to saying +that it is a remarkable feature that the +notes C, D, E, F are produced by pressing +the same keys which are required to +produce <i>do</i>, <i>ré</i>, <i>mi</i>, <i>fa</i>.</p> +<p> +One more citation from the same author. +Speaking of the formation of scales, +he says: "Thus we have another perfectly +natural scale by making use of two +sharps." This vicious use of the term +"natural" is deplorable, because it is +apt to give the pupil the notion that +some scales are more natural than others. +A certain note is called "C natural," +and it is not uncommon for learners +to suppose that it is easier or more +natural to sing in that key, as it is easier +on the piano to play anything in it because +only the white keys are used, while +in any other at least one black key is required. +Indeed, a pupil may study music +a long time before he finds out that +there is no difference between flats and +sharps, as such, and other notes—that +all notes are flats and sharps of the notes +a semitone above and below. Seeing the +staff of a piece of music armed with half a +dozen sharps or flats, the first thought of +the pupil is that it will be rather hard to +sing. And many really suppose that flats +and sharps in themselves are different +from other notes—a little "flatter" or +"sharper" in sound perhaps—and secretly +wonder why their ear cannot detect +it. Of course it may be said that +there is no necessity for pupils to have +such absurd notions, but it is inevitable +where the theory of music is made so difficult +for the beginner. No doubt the ambitious +and naturally studious will delve +and dig among the rubbish of imperfect +textbooks, analyzing and comparing the +explanations of different teachers, until +order takes the place of chaos; but textbooks +should be adapted to ordinary capacities, +and thereby they will better serve +the needs of the most brilliant.</p> +<p> +<i>Fourth.</i> The memory should never be +drawn upon except where reasoning is +impossible.</p> +<p> +In science you have general laws, and +from these deduce particular facts depending +upon them, but collections of +facts and phenomena without connection +you must learn by heart. The extensive +and involved nomenclature of +music, added to the complicated and +inconsistent system of notation, is a +continual and exhausting strain upon +the memory. Teachers commence their +drill in vocalization, as a rule, with the +scale of the key of C, and the pupils, +fired with a noble ambition to become +musicians, make a strenuous effort to remember +where <i>do</i>, <i>ré</i>, <i>mi</i> and the other +notes are placed on the lines and spaces of +the staff. Presently the "key is changed," +and with that change comes chaos. All +the notes are now on a different series of +lines and spaces. The confusion continues +until the series of seven notes is +exhausted. Then come scales with new +names, commencing upon different notes +(flats and sharps), but with places on the +staff identically the same as others having +different names!</p> +<p> +Long before this point is reached by +the pupil his courage flags, his ambition +cools, and in the greater number of cases +dies out altogether. To be sure, if he +has the rare courage to persist he will +come to recognize the notes of any key, +not by the number of lines or spaces intervening +between them and some landmark, +but by their relative distances from<a name="page239" id="page239"></a><span class="left">[page 239]</span> +each other measured by the eye. But this +requires long practice. At first he must +remember if he can, and when he cannot +he must count up to his unknown +note from some remembered one. It +is, at best, a labor of Sisyphus. With +many people—bright and intelligent +people, too—it requires years of practice +to read new music at sight even +tolerably readily; for it is not simply +a question of learning the notes, difficult +as that may be: there is a further +difficulty, and to many even a greater +difficulty—that of the measure. Not +the number of beats in a measure or +bar and their proper accentuation—this +is but the alphabet of time—but to group +correctly and rapidly the fractional notes, +rests and prolongations in their proper +place in time. In very rapid music +this becomes an herculean task, requiring +long-continued and arduous +practice. It is not simply a question +of nice appreciation of rhythm, but of +mathematical calculation, to know instantly +and unhesitatingly, for example, +that one-sixteenth, one half of one-sixteenth +and one thirty-second added together +equal one-eighth—that is, one-third +of the unit of time or beat in six-eighths +time.</p> +<p> +Any one can see that such mental +feats, ever varying as they are in music, +and demanding instant solution at the +same time the attention is given to the +intonation, style, etc., must require an +exceptional temperament and natural +capacity. The fact is, it is beyond the +power of most musicians. They must +practise their instrumental and vocal +music, and learn it nearly "by heart," +before they attempt to perform it for +others.</p> +<p> +The writer of this has attended a class +taught by one of Chevé's pupils, and can +testify to the efficiency of the method, +though the lessons were a very modest +attempt to exemplify the perfection of +the system. The lessons of M. and +Mme. Chevé were divided into three +parts: first, a drill in the principles of +the theory of music; second, singing +scales and exercises; third, drills in +"reading time," beating time, analyzing +time, etc., ending with some diverting +"round" or "catch" or some exercise +in vocal harmonies. On their method +of teaching time, more than on any other +part of their system perhaps, did the grand +success of the Chevés depend. Rhythm +was always taught separately from intonation, +it being contrary to their principle +to present two difficulties together +before each had been mastered alone.</p> +<p> +The first grand law of Galin's system +is that <i>every isolated symbol represents a +unit of time</i> or beat, whatever the measure. +For example:</p> + +<table align="center" summary="unit of time"> +<tr> + <td class="main">5</td> + <td class="main1b">, unit of sound articulated.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="main">•</td> + <td class="main1b">, unit of sound prolonged.</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="main">0</td> + <td class="main1b">, unit of silence.</td> + </tr> + </table> +<p> +The second law is that <i>the various divisions +of the unit of time are always united +in a group under a principal bar, and +such a bar always contains the unit of +time—never more, never less</i>. To illustrate:</p> + + +<table width="40%" align="center" border="0" summary="divisions"> +<tr> + <td class="main2" rowspan="3" width="15%"><span class="sc" style="font-weight: bold;"><br />H<br />a<br />l<br />v<br />e<br />s<br />.</span></td> + <td class="main" width="20%">__<br />55</td> + <td class="main" rowspan="3" width="25%"> </td> + <td class="main2" rowspan="3" width="15%"><span class="sc" style="font-weight: bold;"><br />T<br />h<br />i<br />r<br />d<br />s<br />.</span></td> + <td class="main" width="25%">___<br />555</td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main">__<br /><tt>••</tt></td> + <td class="main">___<br /><tt>•••</tt></td> + +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="main">__<br />00</td> + <td class="main">___<br />000</td> + +</tr> +</table> +<p> +Here the units of time—the numeral, the +dot and the cipher—are divided first into +two equal parts, and then into three. In +both cases the groups represent units of +time—one beat of a measure—according +to the rule. It will be noticed that the +form of the notes is the same whether +whole or divided into fractions; that is, +there are no different forms for "crotchets," +"quavers," "semiquavers," etc., the +expression of time being better provided +for. Thus, halves or thirds are indicated +to the eye by a single bar surmounting +two signs for halves, three for thirds. If +the halves or thirds have in their turn +been divided by <i>two</i>, then the principal +bar covers two little groups of <i>two</i> signs +each; if the halves or thirds have been +divided by <i>three</i>, then each principal bar +covers two or three little groups of <i>three</i> +signs each.</p> +<p> +Nothing could be more simple than +this. The eye has always before it, separate +and distinct, the unit of time or +beat; and the mind apprehends instantly +the number of articulated sounds, prolongations +or silences (rests) that must<a name="page240" id="page240"></a><span class="left">[page 240]</span> +be sung or played during that beat. The +eye has no hesitation, the mind no calculation, +as to what note commences or +ends a beat. Even the most modest student +of music will see the immense advantage +of this. Nor is there any need +for the multiplicity of fractions to express +different kinds of time. The moment the +eye rests upon the score the student knows +the measure as definitely and certainly as +he knows the letters of the alphabet.</p> +<p> +"And is this all there is in this system +of notation?" some one will ask. Practically, +Yes. There are the symbols of intonation, +the numerals and the dot—the +dot below or above the notes showing +the octave ( <img src="images/189-2.png" width="34" height="27" alt="octave" border="0" /> ); the two diagonal lines +indicating flats or sharps ( <img src="images/189-1.png" width="33" height="15" alt="flats or sharps" border="0" /> ); the horizontal +bar indicating the time ( <img src="images/189-3.png" width="89" height="17" alt="time" border="0" /> ); +and the vertical line or bar dividing the +measures ( <b>1 2 3 | 4 3 2 |</b> ).</p> + +<p> +The following is the air "God Save the +Queen!" or, as we call it, "America," +written in this method. The lower line, +of course, is the alto:</p> +<a name="p240-1" id="p240-1"></a> +<p class="indent" style="font-size: 1.1em; font-weight: bold;"> +KEY OF G.<br /><br /> + +<img src="images/189-4.png" width="342" height="237" alt="'God Save the Queen', or 'America'" border="0" /></p> + + +<p> +It will be noticed that the dot in the second +measure which prolongs the note +<i>si</i> ( <b>7</b> ) is not placed against it, as we are +accustomed to see it. It is carried forward +into the second beat, where it belongs. +There it is grouped with the note +<i>do</i> ( <b>1</b> ), and occupies one half of that unit +of time; for all the signs grouped under +a line or under the same number of lines +are equal in time to each other, the same +as all isolated signs are. In the sixth +measure the dot is isolated; therefore +it fills the whole beat, while the following +beat is represented by a rest ( <b>0</b> ). +In two of the measures there are groups +of two notes. Each of the notes in these +groups of course equals in time half of +an isolated note, for each occupies half +the time of one beat.</p> +<p> +The French say <i>déchiffrer la musique</i>—to +puzzle it out, to decipher it, as one +would say of hieroglyphs on an Egyptian +sarcophagus. The term is well +chosen. The causes of the obscurity +of musical notation are numerous, but +the most prolific is undoubtedly expressing +time by the form of the symbols of +sound. In slow movements, and where +only few modulations occur, this does not +seem to be a serious objection; but in +the rapid movements of compound time +it becomes insupportable—at least after +one has learned that there is a better +way. An example in <sup>6</sup>⁄<sub>8</sub> time—six eighth-notes +to the measure—will illustrate this:</p> +<a name="p240-2" id="p240-2"></a> +<img src="images/illus-190-600.jpg" width="600" height="144" alt="music example" border="0" /> +<p> +Here each triplet fills the time of one-third +of a beat; that is, three-sixteenths +equal one-eighth, according to the sublime +precision of the old notation! But +then no such thing as a twenty-fourth +note is in use: three twenty-fourths would +just do it! This is a part of a vocal exercise. +The learner would have to divide +each beat into three parts each, unless +very familiar with such exercises; and +one of these divisions would fall on a +rest, another in a prolongation, another +in the middle of an eighth note. In the +new method see how the crooked places +are straightened:</p> + +<table border="0" summary="rhythm"> + +<tr> +<td class="main1c" valign="top"><span style="line-height: 50%">_______________ _______________</span><br /> + _____ _____ _____ _____<br /> +<tt>1 0 2 3 4 3 2 1 • 2 3 • 4 5</tt></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> +It "sings itself" the moment you look +at it, after a little study of this rational +notation. Note also that there is no +mathematical absurdity here: the division +is logical, and yet the air is perfectly +expressed in every particular.</p> +<p> +The mastery of time in music is at +best an arduous task, yet teachers of +music, as a rule, expect their pupils to +learn it incidentally while studying intonation. +They give no special drill in +pure time at every lesson; and the result +is that army of mediocre singers and +players who never become able to execute +any but the very simplest music at sight.<a name="page241" id="page241"></a><span class="left">[page 241]</span> +They may know the theory of time, may +be able to explain to you clearly the divisions +of every measure, but this is not +sufficient for the musician: he must decipher +his measures with great readiness, +precision and rapidity, or he never rises +above the mediocre. The ambition to +excel without hard labor is the bane of +students of the piano especially. It +leads them to muddle over music too +difficult for them; finally, to learn it after +a fashion, so that they may be able to +"rattle and bang" through it to the delight +of fond relatives and the amazement +and pity of severe culture. Not +that we should have consideration for +all that passes for severe culture and +exquisite sensitiveness among musical +dilettanti. In no field of art is there +so much affectation, assumption and +charlatanry as in music. Some years +ago a musician in New York of considerable +reputation refused to play on a +friend's piano because, as he said, it +was a little out of tune and his ear was +excruciated by the slightest discord. The +lady wondered that the instrument should +be out of tune, as it was new and of a +celebrated manufacturer. She sent to +the establishment where it was made, +however, and a tuner promptly appeared. +He tried the A string with his tuning-fork, +ran his fingers over the keyboard, +declared the piano in perfect +tune, and left. That evening the musician +called, and was informed that a +tuner had "been exercising his skill" +upon the instrument. Thereupon he +graciously condescended to play for his +hostess, and the sensitiveness of his ear +was no longer shocked. She never dared +to undeceive him, but mentioned the fact +to another musician, a violinist, who exclaimed, +greatly amused, "The idea of a +pianist pretending to be fastidious about +concord in music! Why, the instrument +at its best is a bundle of discords." Both +of these musicians were guilty of affectation; +for, although the piano's chords are +slightly dissonant, the intervals of the +chromatic scale are made the same by +the violin-player as by the pianist. What +right, then, has the former to complain? +To be sure, the violinist <i>can</i> make his +intervals absolutely correct: he <i>can</i> play +the enharmonic scale, which one using +any of the instruments with fixed notes +cannot do. But does he, practically? +Does he not also make the same note +for C sharp and D flat? The violinist +mentioned of course alluded to the process +called <i>equal temperament</i>, by which +piano-makers, to avoid an impracticable +extent of keyboard, divide the scale into +eleven notes at equal intervals, each one +being the twelfth root of 2, or 1.05946. +This destroys the distinction between the +semitones, and C sharp and D flat become +the same note. Scientists show us +that they are different notes, easily distinguished +by the ear. Representing the +vibrations for C as 1, we shall have—</p> +<a name="chromatic_sequencer"></a> +<table width="50%" align="center" border="0" summary=""> +<tr> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph1">C</span></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="C sharp"><span class="emph1">C</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">#</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="D flat"><span class="emph1">D</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">¨</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph1">D</span></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="D sharp"><span class="emph1">D</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">#</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="E flat"><span class="emph1">E</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">¨</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph1">E</span></td> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph">etc.<a href="#note"><sup>*</sup></a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph">1</span></td> + <td width="10%">25<br /><span style="text-decoration: overline">24</span></td> + <td width="10%">27<br /><span style="text-decoration: overline">24</span></td> + <td width="10%">8<br /><span style="text-decoration: overline">9</span></td> + <td width="10%">75<br /><span style="text-decoration: overline">64</span></td> + <td width="10%">6<br /><span style="text-decoration: overline">5</span></td> + <td width="10%">5<br /><span style="text-decoration: overline">4</span></td> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph">etc.</span></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> +each note being increased by one twenty-fourth +of itself, or in absolute vibrations—</p> + +<table width="50%" align="center" border="0" summary=""> +<tr> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph1">C</span></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="C sharp"><span class="emph1">C</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">#</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="D flat"><span class="emph1">D</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">¨</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph1">D</span></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="D sharp"><span class="emph1">D</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">#</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><a class="contents" href="#chromatic_sequence" title="E flat"><span class="emph1">E</span><span style="font-family: 'opus chords', serif; font-size: 1.2em; font-weight: normal;">¨</span></a></td> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph1">E</span></td> + <td width="10%"><span class="emph">etc.<a href="#note"><sup>*</sup></a></span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td><span class="emph">261</span></td> + <td><span class="emph">271</span></td> + <td><span class="emph">271</span></td> + <td><span class="emph">293</span></td> + <td><span class="emph">305</span></td> + <td><span class="emph">303</span></td> + <td><span class="emph">326</span></td> + <td><span class="emph">etc.</span></td> +</tr> +</table> + +<p> +This is the enharmonic scale, having +twenty-one notes. The chromatic has +eleven, and the name—it may be remarked +in passing—is from the Greek +word for "color" <a class="contents" href="#greek-192" title="chrôma">χρωμα</a><a name="r192-greek"></a> because the +old composers wrote these notes in colors, +and had them so printed. Not a bad +idea, surely: many a learner on the piano +would be overjoyed to see all the ugly +flats and sharps on the staff in brilliant +holiday dress.</p> +<p> +There is no reason at this day, when +science in all fields is making such progress, +why the ordinary music-teacher +should have so limited a knowledge of +his subject. He should be able to explain +the fundamental principles of the +different scales upon the theory of vibration, +and to so educate the apprehension +of his pupils that they will not be content +with the imperfect catechisms of the +music-books in vogue. And with the +adoption of a rational system of writing +music, which will reduce the time and +labor of learning it to one half, there +will be time for the niceties of a science +of such vast importance to the culture—and, +indirectly, to the moral progress—of +the world.</p> + +<p class="author">MARIE HOWLAND.</p> + +<a name="note"></a> +<p class="note">[* 'Opus Chords' font was used for the sharps and flats. If this is not available, +click a sharp or flat note to see an image (transcriber).] <a href="#chromatic_sequencer">return</a></p> + + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page242" id="page242"></a><span class="left">[page 242]</span> + + + +<h2>SAMBO: A MAN AND A BROTHER.</h2> + +<p> +"But," I said eagerly, "you do not +deny that slavery was a curse to +the country—to Southerners most of +all?"</p> +<p> +"My dear fellow," said Captain S——, +knocking off the ashes from his cigar, +"don't go into that! We were talking +about negroes, not about slavery. I suppose," +he added meditatively, "there are +not many men in the country who have +faced more of the negro race than those +of us who spent some part of our term +of service in the Freedmen's Bureau. +Imagine settling disputes from morning +till night between negroes and between +negroes and whites! If you abolitionists—as +you called yourselves before the +emancipation—want to have some of the +romance and sentiment of negroism dissolved, +live amongst them for a time."</p> +<p> +"You were in Virginia?" I said.</p> +<p> +"Yes, but the negroes there are a better +class than in the States farther South +and more remote from cities."</p> +<p> +"How better?"</p> +<p> +"Well, more intelligent. To see the +deepest ignorance you have to go to +the cotton-plantations, miles in extent, +where men, women and children have +been born and have died as cotton-pickers. +Of course I am not now speaking +of the freedmen as they are, for it is ten +years since I was on duty in G——, Mississippi, +where all the horrors of freedom +were first revealed to the poor creatures."</p> +<p> +"'<i>Horrors</i> of freedom!'" I repeated.</p> +<p> +"It meant starvation to many, and intense +suffering to others. Turn out a nursery +of children of five years old to care +for themselves, and they will fare better +than many of the grown men and women +of whom I knew in my Southern +experiences."</p> +<p> +"You relieved G——of the —th regiment?" +I said.</p> +<p> +"Yes, and I often think of our meeting +at the dépôt. He had about two +minutes before taking the train to Vicksburg. +'Cap,' he said, 'go to Sim's to +board. Real Southern hospitality, and +his wife's a mother if you are sick—bound +to have bilious fever, you know. +And, Cap, those confounded niggers +think the Bureau is bound to back them +up, right or wrong, and in about ninety-nine +cases out of a hundred they're +wrong. Clerk's got the reports and papers.'"</p> +<p> +"Well?" I said.</p> +<p> +"He was right. The way those planters +allowed the negroes to impose upon +their good-nature and true generosity +confounded me. I went to relieve an +oppressed race, and, by Jove! I was inclined +to consider the planters in that +light."</p> +<p> +"But I don't understand."</p> +<p> +"I'll show you. When the planters +found they could still have the practised +slave-labor in the cotton-fields by +paying fair wages, they made contracts +with the negroes by the year. It was +my fortune to be the referee on all disputes +on the accounts of the first year +of such contracts, and I solemnly declare +the liberality and consideration of +the planters would astonish the hard-fisted +business-men of some of our factories. +They knew the improvidence of the race, +and out of regard for them, instead of +paying them in money, they allowed +them to obtain goods in their names at +the leading stores. Almost invariably +these bills exceeded the amount stipulated +for in the contract, but I never +knew one case where the employer +made the negroes work out their debt. +When I would tell them how the accounts +came out, they said: 'Well, captain, +let it go: I'll pay the bills. These +poor fellows do not understand the use +of money yet.'</p> +<p> +"But the negroes had the laws of possession, +the rights of freedom and privileges +of slavery in such a hopeless muddle +that no Gordian knot ever required +more patience than an effort to enlighten<a name="page243" id="page243"></a><span class="left">[page 243]</span> +them as to their rights and wrongs. The +only limit set to their credit at the stores +was that the purchases were to be confined +to food and clothing. Without +any idea of money or economy, they +were wasteful, and heard with long faces +that the pile of money they confidently +expected was awaiting them had already +been spent. Conversations like the following +occurred many times a day:</p> +<p> +"'No money, Mars' Cap'n? Why, ole +mars' he done 'greed to gib me fou' hund'ed +dollars dis year, an' I done worked +faithful, Mars' Cap'n; an' now I ain't to +have nuffin'!'</p> +<p> +"'But you have had nearly five hundred +dollars.'</p> +<p> +"'Clare to Goodness, Mars' Cap'n, I +ain't had one cent—not one cent.'</p> +<p> +"'But you have had it in meal, bacon, +calico and other goods at the store.'</p> +<p> +"'But dey allers gives a nigga his food +and clothes, Mars' Cap'n—<i>allers</i>. We +ain't got to pay for dat ar, for sure?'</p> +<p> +"'Yes. Now you can earn your own +money you must pay for your own food.'</p> +<p> +"'But dey nebber does—nebber! And +dar's only de ole 'ooman an' two picaninnies. +Dey's nebber ate fou' hund'ed +dollars up in a year.'</p> +<p> +"'But you have had a suit of clothes, +and there is calico charged to you.'</p> +<p> +"'But we ain't got to pay for clothes? +Dey allers 'lows a nigga two suits a year—<i>allers</i>?</p> +<p> +"And much argument failed to convince +the poor fellows that food and +clothing were no longer to be had for +nothing, the usual end of the discussion +being, often with great tears rolling down +the black faces, 'An' I was promised fou' +hund'ed dollars! Ole mars' done promised +dat ar, an' I've jes' worked dis whole +year for nuffin'.'</p> +<p> +"Their perfectly childlike faith in the +promise of their old masters made their +disappointment more acute than can be +imagined by those who are used to the +close bargains driven with the working +community farther North. 'Ole mars'' +represented to them their sole idea of +vast wealth and power, and was usually +almost worshipped.</p> +<p> +"I do not deny the many horrible exceptions, +the shocking cruelties, that blot +the records of slave-life; but I do maintain +that they were exceptions, and that +nine cases out of ten—nay, more than +that proportion—that came under my +personal observation proved that a sincere +love existed between masters and +slaves. In many instances I saw planters +impoverished by the war supporting +old slaves or whole families in absolute +idleness, simply because the poor +creatures, after a short trial of freedom's +vicissitudes, had come back to 'home an' +ole mars',' and he had not the heart to +turn them away.</p> +<p> +"One woman, whose circumstances I +knew, came to me for a pass to go North.</p> +<p> +"'But, Kate,' I said to her, 'you are +much better off here than you can be at +the North.'</p> +<p> +"'Done got <i>nuffin</i>' here,' she asserted +positively.</p> +<p> +"'You have that little cabin Mrs. H—— +allows you to live in.'</p> +<p> +"'Sho' now, Mars' Cap'n, 'course I +has.'</p> +<p> +"'But at the North you will have no +house unless you can pay for it.'</p> +<p> +"'Pay for it! Why, don't they gib +deir niggas a cabin?'</p> +<p> +"'No. You may get a room, but you +will have to pay so much a week to be +allowed to live in it. And Mrs. H—— +lets you have your food too.'</p> +<p> +"'But dey'll gib a nigga her food, +cap'n—nebber make her pay for a +han'fu' of meal an' a lash o' bacon?'</p> +<p> +"'You will have to pay for every +mouthful. And it is cold there too, +Kate—very cold at this time of the +year. You will have to buy clothes or +freeze to death.'</p> +<p> +"'But dey'll 'low me two suits?'</p> +<p> +"'Not unless you pay for them. And +work is not plenty, Kate, for the cities +are crowded with negroes who were discontented +here. Suppose you cannot +get work, you will have no cabin, no +food, no clothes.'"</p> +<p> +"Did you convince her?" I asked.</p> +<p> +"No. She said to me, 'Guess you's +mistaken 'bout dat ar, Mars' Cap'n. +Dey <i>mus</i>' gib deir niggas a cabin an' +a bite, you know; and dey makes piles<a name="page244" id="page244"></a><span class="left">[page 244]</span> +o' money. And sho' now, Mars' Cap'n, +all de <i>free</i> folks is rich—dey mus' be. +Nobody's po' dat's <i>free</i>.'</p> +<p> +"You see," he added earnestly, "they +did not know what freedom meant. It +was a gorgeous vision of doing as they +pleased, unlimited riches and idleness. +They could work or not: whether they +starved or not, they had not taken into +consideration. Freedom came upon them +too suddenly, and they had no idea of +personal responsibility."</p> +<p> +"But," I said, "they could form families, +be free to keep their children."</p> +<p> +To my surprise, Captain S—— began +to laugh. "Of all the ludicrous scenes I +remember," he said, "none were funnier +than those occasioned by the new ideas +of matrimony. I remember one pretty +pouting mulatto about eighteen who came +with a tall, powerful negro to the office +for a marriage license. They were married +in the church, and some few words +were spoken of the solemnity of the bond +between them. In about two weeks the +bride burst into my office one morning, +followed by her husband. 'Mars' +Cap'n,' she said, 'can't I go home ef I +choose?'</p> +<p> +"'Certainly,' I said.</p> +<p> +"'Dar, you nigga!' she said. 'I's +gwine home dis bery day.'</p> +<p> +"'But, Mars' Cap'n,' said the man, +'the minister said she was to lib 'long +o' me fur allers.'</p> +<p> +"'Oh,' I said, 'she wants to leave +you?'</p> +<p> +"'Jes' fo' sure I does! I'se gwine +home: I done tired o' bein' married, +I is. I'se gwine back to ole missus.'</p> +<p> +"'Does your husband treat you badly?' +I asked.</p> +<p> +"'Nebber, Mars' Cap'n,' said the man +earnestly. 'I done make the fire ebery +mornin', an' cook her a hoecake 'long o' +my own, so dat gal sleep half de day. +An' I done give her two pair earrings.'</p> +<p> +"'What do you complain of?' I asked +the bride.</p> +<p> +"'Sho' now, Mars' Cap'n, I ain't a-complainin'; +only I done tired o' dat +nigga, an' I'se gwine home.'</p> +<p> +"It was wasted talk, I found afterward, +that I spent in trying to convince +her of her duty to her husband. They +left the office together, but the bride disappeared, +and the disconsolate husband +never found her, to my knowledge. One +of the neighbors told me, 'He jes' spiled +dat gal, Mars' Cap'n, a-lettin' her have +her own way all de time. My ole woman +ain't wuff shucks if I don't ware +her out 'bout onct a week.'</p> +<p> +"'How do you wear her out?' I asked.</p> +<p> +"'Jes' wif a stick, Mars' Cap'n. Women +ain't good for nuffin' 'less you give +'em a good warin' out when they gits +sarsy.'</p> +<p> +"And I found afterward that this man +beat his wife till she fainted about once a +week. The best of the joke was, that +when I remonstrated with him the woman +told me she 'didn't want no Bureau +'terference with her ole man!'"</p> +<p> +"But, Cap," I said, "you cannot defend +the custom of tearing children +from their mothers?"</p> +<p> +"No," he said gravely: "it hardened +them. I have been as soft-hearted as +any man over the supposed maternal +anguish of negro women, but I assure +you, old fellow, my own observation +quite cured me. It may be there are +cases, such as we weep over in <i>Uncle +Tom's Cabin</i>, but my own experience +shows not one. I think the custom of +taking children in infancy to put them +in dozens under the care of old negresses +past work may be answerable for the indifference +I have seen manifested by +negro mothers. I have known more +than one case where the love of a colored +nurse for her white charge was +strong as mother-love. I remember +one woman who came to me in a violent +rage to ask if I could not punish +her mistress for striking her own child. +The little fellow had been naughty, and +had been corrected by his mother. 'What +fo' she done slap Mars' Tom?' she asked: +'he ain't done nuffin', po' chile!'</p> +<p> +"'Nonsense!' I said. 'The boy was +naughty, and his mother boxed his ears. +Why, Chloe,' I added, 'what do <i>you</i> mean +by complaining? I have seen you take +your own baby by one leg and throw him +across the kitchen, without any regard to +the stoves or kettles he might hit.'<a name="page245" id="page245"></a><span class="left">[page 245]</span> +"''Course you has,' she said coolly: +'he's allers under my feet.'</p> +<p> +"'But you might strike his head and +kill him.'</p> +<p> +"'Well,' was the startling answer, +'he's nuffin' but a nigga.'</p> +<p> +"And that was her own child, habitually +treated with neglect and blows by +his mother, while she cried over the +cruelty of slapping the white child she +had nursed. And it was not to curry +favor, but from a sincere belief that the +one child should be caressed and loved, +while the other must expect knocks and +blows, being 'nuffin' but a nigga.'</p> +<p> +"One old crone told me, 'I've done +had sixteen picaninnies, Mars' Cap'n, +but I nebber seed none o' dem after dey +was 'bout six weeks old. Dey was in de +nussery, an' I was a rale smart cotton-picker, +and couldn't be spar'd to nuss +chillen, nohow.'</p> +<p> +"'But were you not allowed to see your +own children?' I asked, as much shocked +as you would be.</p> +<p> +"''Lowed! 'Course I was 'lowed ef I +wanted to bother 'bout 'em. But Law's +sakes! dey was all mixed up 'long o' de +others, an' I wa'n't goin' fussin' 'bout +some oder woman's baby, likely 'nuff.'</p> +<p> +"Many such instances convinced me +speedily that—whether from want of natural +affection or from their having been +educated to indifference I do not pretend +to say—negro mothers in Mississippi had +certainly no violent affection for their +own offspring.</p> +<p> +"But the most shocking case that came +under my immediate notice was that +of a woman seeking employment. She +came to my office with two handsome +boys, all three being bright mulattoes. +The little fellows were about three and +five years of age, with large brown eyes +and pretty faces, full of fun and vivacity. +The mother was a tall, fine-looking woman +of twenty-two or -three, and claimed +to be a good cook. I had one place +in my mind, and sent her there, as a +friend had mentioned to me that he +wanted a cook, and if one came for +employment would like to have her +sent to him.</p> +<p> +"Unfortunately, he objected to the +children, but, thinking the mother could +board them out, told her to 'get rid of +the children' and he would employ her.</p> +<p> +"The next day he came to me with a +face of horror. 'Captain,' he said, 'the +cook you sent me has murdered both +her children!'</p> +<p> +"'Murdered them?' I cried.</p> +<p> +"'Yes. She is in the office, and you +will have to see her, I suppose. It is +awful!'</p> +<p> +"I found the woman waiting my coming +with a face of perfect composure.</p> +<p> +"'Hannah,' I said, after I had heard +the accusation of the people in the house +where the crime was committed, 'what +have you to say?'</p> +<p> +"'Nuffin', Mars' Cap'n. Mars' T—— +done sed I mus' git rid o' de picaninnies; +and dey was bothersome, anyway—allers +eatin', 'deed dey was, Mars' +Cap'n'—this very earnestly, as if to defend +herself—' allers a-hollerin' for suffin' +to eat.'</p> +<p> +"'But, Hannah, Mr. T—— wanted +you to leave them with some of the +women to board.'</p> +<p> +"'Nebber sed so. Jes' sed—'deed he +did—"You get rid o' dem chillens an' +come here to cook." So I jes' waited +till dey was asleep, an' cut deir throats. +Dey nebber screeched.'</p> +<p> +"I was sick with horror, but through +the whole of the examination the woman +showed no sign of emotion, though we +all went to the house where the two pretty +babies lay, stone dead."</p> +<p> +"What became of her?" I asked.</p> +<p> +"I have forgotten. I sent her to Vicksburg, +as the case was too grave for my +decision. I should not have held her +accountable, as she was evidently under +the impression that absolute obedience +was the law for her race.</p> +<p> +"It was odd," he continued, "but after +that tragedy there came a farce in true +dramatic order. My office was hardly +cleared of the parties concerned in this +dreadful murder when I was attracted to +the window by the most horrible yelping +and squealing, and saw two negroes, +black as coals, barefooted, bareheaded +and ragged, one leading a dog, one +trying to drag two pigs into the yard<a name="page246" id="page246"></a><span class="left">[page 246]</span> +attached to my quarters. Seeing me, +one of them made a bow. 'Sarvent, +Mars' Cap'n,' he said.</p> +<p> +"'What do you want?' I asked. 'Tie +those pigs up before you come in,' for he +was dragging them up the steps.</p> +<p> +"'Likely shoats, ain't dey?' said the +other eagerly. 'We jes' come down +'bout dem ar shoats, Mars' Cap'n.'</p> +<p> +"'An' dat ar dog,' broke in the other.</p> +<p> +"Here the dog made a dash at the +pigs, and in trying to escape the latter +ran between the legs of the men, upsetting +one. Such a hubbub of squealing +pigs, barking dog, laughing and +swearing men as ensued beggars description. +When there was some order +restored, the pigs and dog tied up in the +yard, the biggest of the darkeys, scraping +his best bow, said, 'We jes' come, Mars' +Cap'n, 'bout a little complexity 'long o' +dat ar dog and dem two shoats.'</p> +<p> +"'No 'plexity it all, cap'n,' said the +other.—'Jes' you keep to facks, you Hannibal.—You +see, Mars' Cap'n, dat ar nigga +he had de dog: jes' a good-for-nuffin' +mongrel, <i>he</i> is, fo' sure now.'</p> +<p> +"'Rale likely dog, Mars' Cap'n,' broke +in the other. 'Dat ar dog'll twist a pig +off'n his legs onto his back quicker'n +winkin'—'deed will he.'</p> +<p> +"I had been long enough in G—— to +appreciate this speech, having seen droves +of pigs in gardens or vegetable-patches +routed by dogs. A monstrous pig would +roll over perfectly helpless after a dexterous +twist of a small dog holding the hind +leg of the heavy animal between his +teeth. I do not know how they are +trained, but it is far more mirth-provoking +than any circus to see two or +three little yelping dogs rout some fifty +great pigs in this way.</p> +<p> +'"Ain't wuff two shoats,' growled the +other darkey.</p> +<p> +"'Wuff twenty-'leven racks o' bones +like dem ar.'</p> +<p> +"'Stop!' I said.—'You speak, Hannibal, +and you wait till your turn,' I added +to the other man.</p> +<p> +"'You see, Mars' Cap'n,' said Hannibal, +'Bill he wanted dat ar dog o' mine +powerful bad—'deed you did, you nigga!—an' +he done swopped off two missable +weak ole shoats on me for dat dog. Well, +Mars' Cap'n, I done fed up dem shoats +fo' free or fou' months; an', now dey's likely +pigs an' a-makin' bacon, Bill he wants +to swop back, he does.'</p> +<p> +"'You see, Mars' Cap'n,' broke in the +other, 'dat ar dog was to be a huntin'-dog, +he was. Wish ter gracious you'd +jes' see him <i>hunt</i>! Stan' an' bark an' +yelp till dar ain't a quail in ten miles, +he will, an' splash inter de ribber till +he'll scare ebery duck fo' seven miles.'</p> +<p> +"And then they went at it, abusing +and defending the dog, till we heard a +great scuffling, and saw the pigs had +broken loose and were tearing down the +street, followed by the dog, every nigger +in sight, and, bringing up the rear, Hannibal +and Bill, who never returned. How +they settled their dispute I never heard."</p> +<p> +"One! two!" chimed the mantel-clock, +and we parted for the night, while I lay +awake a long time musing upon the "Sambo" +of my imagination and the "Sambo" +of the experiences of Captain S——.</p> + +<p class="author">S. A. SHEILDS.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page247" id="page247"></a><span class="left">[page 247]</span> + + +<h2>THE EMPRESS EUGÉNIE.</h2> + +<p> +When the bloody business of the +<i>coup d'état</i> was definitely finished, +the murder-stains washed from the +streets, the victims interred, and a few +thousand of the best and boldest hearts +of France had taken the sorrowful road +of exile, the new emperor bethought him +of how best to gild his freshly-gained +throne.</p> +<p> +A court was to be constructed, and +that right speedily. After the gloomy +tragedy of the overthrow of the Republic, +France was to be treated to the +grand spectacular piece of the Second +Empire. And for that a <i>corps de ballet</i> +and trained supernumeraries were needed. +The rôle of leading lady, too, was +vacant. An empress was to be sought +for without delay. Negotiations were +opened with several princely houses for +the hands of damsels of royal birth, but +speedily came to naught. As yet, the +new-made emperor was a parvenu amid +his royal contemporaries. The negotiations +for the hand of the Swedish princess +Vasa did indeed promise at one +time to be crowned with success. But +the emperor sent his physician to take +a look at the lady, and to judge if her +physique promised healthful and numerous +offspring; and this fact, coming +to the ears of her family, caused +a sudden stop to be put to the whole +affair. Meantime, at the reunions of +Compiègne, the personality of a young +and lovely foreign countess was coming +prominently into notice, owing to +the evident impression that her charms +had made upon the susceptible heart +of Napoleon III. This lady, Eugénie +Montijo, countess de Teba, was no longer +in the first bloom of girlhood, having +been born in 1826. But she was in the +full meridian of a beauty which, had the +crown matrimonial of France, like the +apple of Até, been dedicated to the fairest, +would have ensured her the throne +by sheer right divine. It is indeed said +that as a young girl her charms were in +no wise remarkable: on her first appearance +in society at the court of Madrid +she created no sensation whatever. She +was too pale and quiet-looking to attract +attention. But one day, the court being +at Aranjuez, during a <i>fête champêtre</i>, +Mademoiselle de Montijo had the good +or ill fortune to fall into one of the ornamental +fishponds in the garden. She +was taken out insensible, and her wet +and clinging garments revealed a form +of such statuesque perfection that all +Madrid went raving about her beauty. +She plunged a commonplace girl—she +rose a Venus. And when she first attracted +the notice of Napoleon she was +indisputably one of the loveliest women +in Europe. She was tall, slender, exquisitely +proportioned, and her walk was +that of a goddess. Her features were +delicate and regular; her eyes long, almond-shaped, +and full of a tender and +dreamy sweetness: her small and faultlessly-shaped +head was set upon a long, +slender neck with the swaying grace of a +lily upon its stalk; her shoulders were +sloping and beautifully moulded, notwithstanding +her lack of embonpoint, +for in those days she was as slight as a +reed. A profusion of fair hair—which +she wore turned back from the face in +the graceful style known as "à la Pompadour," +but speedily to be rechristened +"à l'Impératrice"—and a hand and foot +of truly royal beauty completed an ensemble +of charms that were well calculated +to drive poor masculine humanity +out of its seven senses.</p> +<p> +Cold and calculating as was Napoleon +III., it drove him out of <i>his</i>, for in every +respect such a marriage was an unwise +and an impolitic one. It lent to his new-founded +throne neither the lustre of an +alliance with royalty nor the popularity +that might have been gained by the selection +of a Frenchwoman as the partner +of his fortunes. The Spanish blood +of the countess de Teba made her obnoxious +in the eyes of many of her future<a name="page248" id="page248"></a><span class="left">[page 248]</span> +subjects. Moreover, the antecedents of +the lady were not altogether without reproach. +Not that any actual stigma had +ever clung to her character, but she had +always been looked upon in European +circles as that anomalous character in +such society, a fast girl. Stories, some +true and some false, were circulated respecting +her follies and her escapades. +Evidently, if Cæsar's wife should be +above suspicion, she was not the person +who should have been selected to +become the wife of Cæsar.</p> +<p> +The fact of the emperor's interest in +the fair foreigner was revealed by an +incident, slight in itself and only important +by the emotions which it called +forth. At one of the small intimate reunions +at Compiègne, Mademoiselle de +Montijo happened, while dancing, to +entangle her feet in the long folds of +her train, and she fell with some violence +to the floor. The extreme anxiety +and distress manifested by the emperor +acted as a revelation to all present. A +stormy opposition to the projected alliance +was at once organized among the +familiars of the emperor—the men who +had aided in his elevation, and to whom +it was too recent for them to stand in +awe of him. MM. de Morny and de +Persigny in particular were violent in +their opposition. In fact, the latter went +so far as to tell the emperor at the close +of a long and stormy interview on the +subject that it was hardly worth while to +have made a <i>coup d'êtat</i> to end it in +such a manner. M. de Morny argued +and reasoned with his imperial brother, +but neither the violence of Persigny nor +the arguments of De Morny made any +impression on the cold and inflexible +will of Napoleon III., and a few days +later the countess made her appearance +at one of the court-balls in a dress looped +and wreathed with the imperial emblem-flower, +the violet. The emperor, +advancing toward her, presented her +with a superb bouquet of the same significant +blossoms. The meaning of that +little scene was fully understood by the +spectators. The marriage was irrevocably +decided upon, and all that they had +to do was to submit to the imperial will +and make ready to offer their homage +to the new empress. With the solitary +exception of Prince Napoleon, the imperial +family submitted with a good grace +to the matrimonial projects of their chief. +The Princess Mathilde in particular, although +the marriage would depose her +from the place that she then occupied +as the first lady of the court, declared +her willingness to bear the train of the +new empress in public if such a duty +should be required of her, as it had been +of the sisters of the First Napoleon.</p> +<p> +There remained, however, an arrangement +to be completed which, though awkward +and painful, was yet positively necessary. +No one better than Napoleon +III. was aware of the truth of the old +adage which declares that a man must +be off with the old love before he is on +with the new. In an hôtel on the Rue +du Cirque dwelt a lady who had been +the partner of his days of exile and ill-fortune, +who had impoverished herself +in his service, and who had devoted herself +to furthering his aims with a persistency +worthy of a better cause. This +lady, the well-known Mrs. Howard, was +now to be got rid of. A frank and open +rupture was not in the style or the ideas +of her royal and sphinx-like lover. A +pretended secret mission to England +lured her from Paris. She learned the +truth at Boulogne, and hastened back +to her home. There she found that her +hôtel had been visited by the police, and +that a cabinet wherein she kept the letters +of Louis Napoleon had been broken +open and rifled of its contents. Deeply +wounded by the treatment she had received, +she withdrew, not without dignity, +from all attempt at contesting the +position with her rival. "I go," she +wrote to Napoleon, "a second Josephine, +bearing with me your star." To do justice +to the emperor, it must be confessed +that he treated her in other respects with +royal liberality. The title of countess of +Beauregard and a fortune of a million of +dollars were allotted to her. She withdrew +to England, where she afterward +married. In 1865 a great longing to behold +Paris once more came upon her. +Her youth and beauty gone, a worn, disappointed <a name="page249" id="page249"></a><span class="left">[page 249]</span> +and unhappy woman (for her +marriage had turned out most wretchedly), +she returned to Paris only to die. +Her eldest son succeeded to the title of +count de Beauregard, and was made +consul at Zanzibar. Since the downfall +of the Empire he has lived a sort of +Bohemian existence in Paris, where his +striking resemblance to Louis Napoleon +has won for him the nickname of "the +ghost" (<i>le revenant</i>).</p> +<p> +Meanwhile, the preparations for the +marriage were proceeding vigorously. +The future empress and her mother had +been installed in apartments at the Élysée. +The household of the royal bride +was already formed, including the princess +of Essling as chief lady-in-waiting, +and the Count (afterward Duke) Tascher +de la Pagerie as head-chamberlain. The +nuptial ceremony took place on the 30th +of January. The bride's dress was composed +of white velvet, with a veil of point +d'Angleterre, the time being too short +to have one of point d'Alençon manufactured. +The details of the ceremony +were closely copied from those of the wedding +of Napoleon I. and Marie Louise, +and the state-coach was the same that +had been used at the coronation of the +great emperor. It was a magnificent +vehicle, covered with gilding and ornaments, +and so heavy that the eight fine +horses that drew it were less for show +than for actual service. The ceremony +took place in the cathedral of Notre +Dame, which was illuminated for the occasion +with fifteen thousand wax-lights. +The bride was visibly agitated. She was +as pale as death, and her voice in making +the responses was scarcely audible. +No wonder if in that hour a premonition +of evil weighed upon her soul. The civil +register of the imperial family—which, +preserved by the devotion of some of the +adherents of the Bonapartes, had been +brought forth to be used at the civil ceremony +which had taken place the day before—might +well have thrilled her with +forebodings. The last record inscribed +on those pages had been the birth of the +king of Rome. How had it fared with +that scion of a mighty father? how might +it fare with her own possible offspring?</p> +<p> +It speedily became evident that the +marriage, unpopular as it had been +among the counsellors of the emperor, +was still more so among the people at +large. No cries of "Long live the empress!" +save from the throats of paid +agents of the government, rose to greet +the beautiful Eugénie when she appeared +in public. People stared sullenly at +her as at a passing pageant, but were +moved neither by her charms nor her +gentle and gracious courtesy to any outburst +of enthusiasm. To the masses she +was "L'Espagnole," the heiress to the +bitter hate inspired by the Austrian, Marie +Antoinette. Epigrams on the marriage, +seasoned with the cruel and ferocious +wit for which the Parisians are so +famous, circulated on all sides. Some +bold hand affixed to the walls of the Tuileries +a series of doggerel verses wherein +the empress was first called by the nickname +of "Badinguette," which was universally +applied to her after the fall of +the Empire. The author of these lines +was discovered and banished to Cayenne, +but his verses, set to a popular tune, were +long sung in secret in the taverns and +workshops of the suburbs.</p> +<p> +To a certain extent, popular opinion +respecting the young and lovely Eugénie +was correct. She was indeed emphatically +not the wife that Louis Napoleon +should have chosen. A woman of intelligence +and force of character might have +done much to aid in founding his throne +on a more stable basis. The downfall of +the Empire, though probably inevitable, +might have been delayed for at least a +generation. But his choice had fallen +upon a lady who had but one qualification +for the position in which he had +placed her—namely, extreme personal +beauty. She was indeed kind-hearted +and amiable, and among the temptations +of a court as dissolute as was that +of Louis XV. she preserved her reputation +unspotted. But she was narrow-minded +and unintellectual, a bigoted +Catholic, and so blinded by national +and religious prejudices that many of +the most fatal mistakes of the Empire +are directly traceable to her influence. +An alliance with a royal princess would<a name="page250" id="page250"></a><span class="left">[page 250]</span> +have strengthened the throne of Louis +Napoleon: an alliance with a French +lady would have drawn toward him the +hearts of the nation. But Eugénie was +neither a princess nor a Frenchwoman, +nor yet a woman of vigorous and commanding +intellect; and his union with +her was undoubtedly a serious political +error.</p> +<p> +But for some time all went well. She +ruled gracefully over her allotted realm, +which was that of Fashion. The influence +of a crowned Parisian beauty over +the social doings of the world can hardly +be over-estimated. Eugénie invented +toilettes that were copied by all the women +in the civilized world: she invented +crinoline, and added a new product +to the manufactures of the earth. No +woman better understood the art of +dress than she. Certain of her toilettes +have retained their celebrity to this day. +Never did the art of costly dress reach +so high a pinnacle. She fringed her +ball-dresses with diamonds, and covered +them with lace worth two thousand +dollars a yard. Then, like many wise +and economical ladies, she undertook +to have her dresses made at home, and +installed a dressmaker's establishment +in the Tuileries, where these splendid +garments were prepared under her immediate +supervision. The workroom +was directly over her private apartments. +By means of a trapdoor, whose +mechanism was skilfully dissimulated +among the ornaments of the cornice +and ceiling, a mannikin, arrayed in the +garb that was in progress, could be lowered +for the empress's inspection. This +singular branch of the royal household +was under the charge of a functionary +whose business it was to purchase silks, +velvets and laces at wholesale prices +and to superintend the workwomen. +The knowledge of its existence was +soon spread abroad, and did the empress +infinite harm. The petty economy +of the proceeding horrified and disgusted +the Parisians, who, economical +themselves, have ever scorned that virtue +in their sovereigns. Many of the +partisans of the court denied the existence +of such an establishment, but during +the period that elapsed between the +downfall of the Empire and the outbreak +of the Commune the curious throngs that +visited the Tuileries might trace amid +the mouldings of the ceiling in the empress's +boudoir the outline of the famous +trapdoor.</p> +<p> +It would have been well had she never +turned her attention to any less feminine +or more dangerous pursuits. But in an +evil hour for France and for the nation +she undertook to dabble in politics. Left +regent during the Austro-Italian campaign, +she acquired a taste for reigning, +which was increased by the flatteries of +her husband's ministers and the counsels +of her confessor. It was currently said at +court that the Mexican expedition "came +ready-made from her boudoir." She hated +the United States, as a true daughter of +Spain could not fail to detest the coveters +of Cuba and the friends of progress and +of enlightenment. Consequently, she did +not fail to further a project whose real +aim was to deal the great republic, then +struggling in the throes of civil war, a +decisive stab in the back. She approved +of the war with China, and condescended +to enrich her private apartments with +the spoils of the Summer Palace. But +her pet project, the one that she had +most at heart, was the war with Prussia. +The now historical phrase, "This is +<i>my</i> war," was uttered by her to General +Turr soon after the outbreak of hostilities. +And when, an exile and discrowned, +she first sought the presence of Queen +Victoria, she sobbed out with tears of vain +remorse, "It was all my fault. Louis did +not want to go to war: 'twas I that forced +him to it." Poor lady! bitterly indeed +has she atoned for that unwise exercise +of undue influence. The holy crusade +of which she dreamed against the enemies +of her Church and of her husband's +throne ended in giving her son's inheritance +to the winds.</p> +<p> +Nor was her domestic life a happy one. +She loved her husband; and indeed Napoleon +III. seems to have possessed a rare +power of attracting and securing the affections +of those about him. Few that +came within the influence of his kindly +courtesy, his grave and gentle voice, but<a name="page251" id="page251"></a><span class="left">[page 251]</span> +fell captive to the spell thus subtly exercised. +He made many and warm personal +friends, even among those who +were hostile to his politics and his dynasty. +And by three women at least he +was loved with a fervor and a constancy +that no trial could shake. One of these +was the Princess Mathilde, his cousin and +once his intended wife; another was Mrs. +Howard; the third was his wife. But, +like many men who are much loved, +Louis Napoleon was incapable of anything +like genuine and constant love for +any woman. His passion for his lovely +empress was as brief as it had been violent. +He vexed her soul and tortured +her heart by countless conjugal infidelities. +She resented this state of affairs +with all the vehemence of an outraged +wife and a jealous Spaniard. It is said +that she once soundly boxed the ears of +the distinguished functionary who filled +in her husband's household the post that +the infamous Lebel held during the latter +days of the life of Louis XV. Twice +she fled abruptly from the court, unable +to bear the presence of insolent and triumphant +rivals, and the ingenuity of the +fashionable chroniclers of the day was +taxed to invent plausible pretexts for her +sudden journeys to the Scottish or the +Italian lakes. No wonder that the soft +eyes grew sadder and the smiles more +forced as the years passed on and brought +only weariness, disenchantment and the +shadow of the coming end.</p> +<p> +Alphonse Daudet has said in <i>Le Nabab</i> +that there exists in the life of every +human being a golden moment, a luminous +peak, where all of glory or success +that destiny reserves is granted; after +which comes the decadence and the descent. +This golden moment in the life +of the empress Eugénie was the occasion +of the first French international exhibition +in 1855. She was then in the full pride +of her womanhood and her loveliness. +The greatest lady in Europe, Queen Victoria, +had been her guest, had embraced +her as an equal and had given her proofs +of real and sincere friendship. Enveloped +in clouds of priceless lace and blazing +with diamonds of more than regal +splendor, she had presided, <i>la belle des +belles</i>, over the opening of the exhibition +in the Champs Elysées. And, above all, +the event so anxiously desired by her +husband and by the supporters of his +cause was near at hand. She was soon +to become the mother of the heir to the +imperial throne. With every aspiration +gratified, every wish accomplished, she +did indeed seem in that year of grace +the most enviable of human beings. The +later splendors of the exhibition of 1867 +were more apparent than real, and the +gorgeous assemblage of reigning sovereigns +brought with it for Eugénie a subtle +and premeditated insult. The kings +and emperors who responded to the imperial +invitation and came to visit the +court of Napoleon III., with one exception, +that of the king of the Belgians, left +their wives at home. They acted as men +do in private life when they receive invitations +to a ball given by a family of +doubtful standing with whom they are +unwilling to quarrel.</p> +<p> +I have spoken of the birth of the prince +imperial. It may perhaps interest the +reader to know how much this auspicious +event cost the French nation. Not less +than nine hundred thousand francs (one +hundred and eighty thousand dollars), +of which twenty thousand dollars were +paid for the young gentleman's first wardrobe. +The whole amount expended at +the birth of the Comte de Paris did not +exceed this latter sum.</p> +<p> +The details of the scenes at the Tuileries +after the downfall of the Empire, +and those of the flight of the empress, +are well known. It is now generally +conceded that after Sédan the fate of the +imperial dynasty was in the hands of +Eugénie. Had she withdrawn to Tours +or to Bourges, summoned the Assembly +to meet there, and called around her the +partisans of the Empire, she might have +saved the heritage of her son. But her +essentially feminine and frivolous nature +was not fitted for deeds of high resolve +or for heroic determinations. A morbid +dread of following in the footsteps of +Marie Antoinette had pursued her in the +later years of her prosperity. She knew +that she was unpopular, and visions of +the fate of the Austrian queen or of the<a name="page252" id="page252"></a><span class="left">[page 252]</span> +still more horrible one of the Princesse +de Lamballe must have risen before her +as the shouts of the Parisian mob, exulting +in the downfall of her husband, met +her ear. In that hour of disaster and of +woe no Frenchman, for all the boasted +chivalry of the race, was at hand to aid +or protect the fair lady who had so long +queened it at the Tuileries. The Austrian +ambassador, the Italian minister, +the Corsican Pietrio planned and managed +her escape from the palace. She +took refuge in the house of an American, +her dentist, Dr. Thomas W. Evans. He +it was who got her out of Paris and accompanied +her to the seacoast, placing +his own carriage at her disposal. She +crossed the Channel in the yacht of an +English gentleman. Thus guarded by +aliens, she passed from the land of her +queenship to that of exile.</p> +<p> +To-day, in her abode at Chiselhurst, +the widow of Napoleon III. attracts +scarcely less of the world's interest and +attention than she did as throned empress +and queen of Fashion. Unfortunately, +the supreme tact that once was +her distinguishing quality seems to have +deserted her in the days of her decadence. +She, the most graceful of women, +has not learned the art of growing +old gracefully. She had played the part +of a beauty and the leader of fashion for +years. Now that she is past fifty that +character is no longer possible to her. +But she might have assumed another—less +showy, perhaps, but surely far +more touching. With her whitening +hairs she might have worthily worn the +triple dignity of her widowhood, her maternity +and her misfortune. She has +chosen instead, with a weakness unworthy +of the part that she has played on +the wide stage of contemporary history, +to clutch vainly after the fleeting shadow +of her vanished charms. A head +loaded with false yellow hair, a face covered +with paint and powder, a mincing +gait and the airs and graces of an antiquated +coquette,—such to-day is she +who was once the world's wonder for +her loveliness and grace, a bewigged +Mrs. Skewton succeeding to the dazzling +vision that swerved the calculating policy +of Napoleon III. and won his callous +heart, and that still smiles upon us from +the canvas of Winterhalter.</p> + +<p class="author">LUCY H. HOOPER.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="p252" id="p252"></a> + + +<h2>OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP.</h2> + + +<h3>A LOST COLONY.</h3> + +<p> +Why does nobody—antiquarian, +historian, or even novelist—open +again that forgotten page of history, the +story of the lost colony of Norwegians +who disappeared in the fourteenth century +from the shores of Greenland? Doctor +Hayes, after he came back, had a good +deal to say of them, but he did not gather +all the facts, and his book, I believe, is +now out of print.</p> +<p> +I know no mystery made of such nightmare +stuff as this in history; and mysteries +are growing scarce now-a-days as eggs +of the terrible Dinornis: we cannot afford +to lose one of them.</p> +<p> +The foremost figure in the story is of +course Leif <i>hin-hepna</i> ("the happy"). +There is much to be unearthed concerning +that famous pioneer in discovery +and religion, and we Americans surely +ought to have enough interest in him +to do it, as Leif unearthed this continent +for us out of the hold of the sea and +Demigorgon ages ago, while the dust +of which Columbus was to be made centuries +later was yet blowing loose about +the streets of Genoa. Leif, besides discovering +new worlds, turned the souls of +all his father's subjects from paganism +to such Christianity as the times afforded. +I protest, this vigorous young Greenlander <a name="page253" id="page253"></a><span class="left">[page 253]</span> +heads the roll of unrecognized heroes +in the world: heathen and Christians +have made demigods and saints out of +much flimsier stuff than he.</p> +<p> +The colony, too, out of which he came, +what a spectral shadow it is beside the +live flesh-and-blood figures of other nations! +At the banquet of the boar-eating +Scottish thanes there was one empty +chair, and that was filled by a ghost. We +hear of the East and West Bygds, settlements +with hundreds of farms, churches, +cathedrals, monasteries, set on the narrow +rim of green coast which edges +Greenland, lying between the impenetrable +wall of ice inland and the Arctic +Sea without. They had their religion, +which Leif brought to them; they were +busy and prosperous; they married, +traded, fought, loved and died; and +with a breath they all vanished from +off the face of the earth. There is no +ghost-story like this in literature.</p> +<p> +Where will you find, too, such a delightful +flavor of ancient mystery as in +the old chronicles which tell of these +people? Besides the Sagas there are the +voyages of long-ago-forgotten navigators—Arthur +himself, the Venetian brothers +Nicolo and Antonio Zeni, King Zichmni, +divers Frisian fishermen. These old records, +coffee-colored with age and frail as +skeleton leaves, are yet to be found in +certain libraries, and surely would tempt +any one with a soul above newspapers. +In them you shall hear how these voyagers, +in their poor barkentines of from +ten to two hundred tons, entered into +this region of enormous tides, of floating +hordes of mountainous icebergs, of +flaming signs in the sky—into all the +horrors, in fact, of an Arctic winter and +night, darkened still deeper for them +by nameless superstitious terrors. They +went down to these deeps in very much +the temper with which a living man now-a-days +would adventure into hell. The +icy peaks of the far-off land they knew +were glittering silver, and the sea was +full of malignant spirits which guarded +it. A mountain-magnet lay hid under +the sea, dragging the ships down to it +(as late, indeed, as 1830 skilled Danish +navigators declared that they felt the +stress from it, and fled in terror): the +unnatural tides were the breathing of +angry Demigorgon. There were, however, +other sights and sounds not to be +explained in even this reasonable fashion. +On a fair day and a calm sea panic +would seize the soul of every man on +board, and the ship would turn and +beat homeward, "as one who knows a +frightful fiend doth follow him behind."</p> +<p> +It is the mystery of the lost colony, +however, which ought to be opened by +some competent hand. In 1406, Queen +Margaret, it will be remembered, laid an +interdict upon trade with them: for two +centuries afterward not even a passing +barkentine touched upon the Greenland +shore. At the end of that time, when explorers +were sent from the civilized world +in search of the long-forgotten colonists, +they had utterly vanished. There, to this +day, are their dwellings and churches, +solidly built of stone in an architectural +style which Graah fifty years ago described +as simple and elegant: there +are even the ruins of the monastery +which the Zeni brothers declare was +heated by a magical hot sulphurous +spring, the waters of which were conveyed +through the building by pipes. +But the people had absolutely disappeared. +Not even a bit of pottery, a +grave or a bone was left; which last is +a noteworthy circumstance, as portions +of the human body are almost indestructible +in that climate. Seventeen +expeditions have been sent out by the +Danish and Norwegian governments +in search of this lost colony, the last +of which was within the present half +century. One of these was headed by +Egedi, a poor Norwegian clergyman +to whom is owing the civilization of +Greenland, and of whose strange heroic +life we know too little.</p> +<p> +There are two or three conjectures to +account for the disappearance of this colony. +One is that they were all murdered +by the Skröellings. But where are +their bones? Besides, the colonists numbered +from fifteen to twenty thousand, +and were much superior to the natives +in size, strength, intelligence and knowledge +of war.</p> + +<a name="page254" id="page254"></a><span class="left">[page 254]</span> +<p> +Graah, a Danish navigator who came +in search of them in 1828, believes that +they were carried off bodily by the English +after the ravages of the "black death" +in England, to repair the waste of human +life, citing a treaty of 1433 in which England +was charged with abducting Danish +subjects for that end. Another theory is +that the Frisian king Zichmni carried +them off captive. Pope Nicholas asserts +this outrage as a fact in a bull in 1448. +But Zichmni is as uncertain a personage +in history as Demigorgon; and the good +popes were not so infallible as to matters +of general news before the establishment +of telegraph and postal service as they +are now.</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalton Dorr, who accompanied +Hayes, tells me that among the Esquimaux +there is a tradition that a colony +of foreigners once owned the land, and +about five centuries ago emigrated in +a body northward, crossing the Mer de +Glace—that they found an open sea, and +somewhere within the eternal rampart of +snow and ice now dwell securely by its +shores. As early as 1500 the migratory +Skröellings told of this colony far to the +north-east. These rumors possessed substance +enough to warrant the expeditions +from Denmark, which have all been directed +to the eastern coast. Graah heard +from his guides of a strange people with +high features, hoarse voices and large +stature living beyond the limits passed +by Europeans.</p> +<p> +Here is a mystery surely worth finding +out—a people exiled from their kind for +centuries living at the Pole—something +better worth search than even Franklin's +bones. To give it reality, too, we must +remember how many Arctic explorers +have caught sight, as they thought, of an +open sea near the Pole—a sea with strong, +iceless swells, and on whose shores warm +rains fell. Nobody need suggest that +these people would probably, after our +search, not be worth looking for. What +shall we do with the North-west Passage +when we have found it?</p> + +<p class="author">R. H. D.</p> +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>THE DIFFICULTIES OF BEING AGREEABLE.</h3> +<p> +"A man will please more by never +offending than by giving a great deal +of delight." In this remark of Doctor +Johnson's lies the art of being agreeable. +But nothing is more difficult than +to avoid offending. Most people are offended +by trifles. For instance, persons +generally take umbrage at superior brilliance +of conversation. "The man who +talks for fame will never please." Even +he who talks to unburden his mind will +please only some old and solitary friend. +Large experience and great learning, +however quietly carried, are very offensive +to those who have them not. Clever +things cannot be said unobtrusively +enough. A person so brilliant as to +make others feel that his efforts are +above theirs will be detested. Moreover, +one of the difficulties of being +agreeable is that the apprehension of +offending and the small hope of pleasing +destroy all captivation of manner. +The confident expectation of pleasing +is an infallible means of pleasing. Characters +pleased with themselves please +others, for they are joyous and natural in +mien, and are at liberty from thinking of +themselves to pay successful attention to +others. Still, the self-conceited and the +bragging are never attractive, self being +the topic on which all are fluent and none +interesting. They who dwell on self in +any way—the self-deniers, the self-improvers—are +hateful to the heart of civilized +man. The Chinese, who knew everything +beforehand, are perfect in self-abnegation +of manner. "How are your +noble and princely son and your beautiful +and angelic daughter?" says Mandarin +Number One.—"Dog of a son +have I none, but my cat of a daughter +is well," says Mandarin Number Two.</p> +<p> +To set up for an invariably agreeable +person you must adjust yourself to the +peculiarities of others. You must talk +of books to bookworms: you must be +musical with musicians, scientific with +savants. Furthermore, you have to make +believe all the time that you are enjoying +yourself. The belle is a lady who has +an air of enjoying herself with whomsoever +she talks. We like those who seem +to delight in our company. You must +not overdo it, and thus make yourself +suspected of acting; but do not<a name="page255" id="page255"></a><span class="left">[page 255]</span> +imagine that you will please without trying. +Those who are careless of pleasing +are never popular. Those who do not +care how they look invariably look ugly. +You will never please without doing all +these things and more.</p> +<p> +What a Pecksniffian business it is to +go into! Who wants to refrain from +smart, spiteful sayings when he happens +to think of them, to abjure laughing at +friends and ridiculing enemies, to renounce +the tart rebuff, the keen <i>riposte</i>? +Amazing that any succeed! and many do. +There are some gentlemen who are entirely +agreeable—"gentlemen all through," +like Robert Moore in <i>Shirley</i>. They have +order, neatness, delicacy of movement, +reticence, incuriosity: their unaffected +English has almost the charm of a musical +composition. They are generally men +whose mothers well nagged them when +they were small with perpetual adjurations: +"Do not bang the door," "Stop +kicking your feet," "Stop clinking your +plate with your fork," and so on.</p> +<p> +In some inscrutable way, young girls +often attain thorough agreeableness. +Look at lazy little Jane: she has acquired +the highest charm of repose. +Look at Sally, who used to be such an +angular and hurried little girl: she is all +quips and cranks and wreathèd smiles +now. And meek, humble-minded Martha, +in former days so diffident, blushing +and taciturn, has found out the value +of a deferential demeanor and the knack +of being a good listener, and can sing a +ballad with a pathos and dramatic effect +that eclipse the highly-embellished performances +of other girls.</p> +<p> +Ladies who make a profession of pleasing +become irresistibly alluring. Actresses +have abundant hair, fine teeth, all physical +beauty, because they train themselves +to beauty, though not originally better endowed +than most others. Actresses' voices +are set habitually, not in complaining, +whining, creaking or vociferating keys, +but in chest-tones clear and calm in +quality. Actresses do not grow old, +partly in consequence of their constant +attention to the toilette, partly in consequence +of the fact that they have hope +and ambition, and enough occupation +and enough rest, and do not worry over +trifles.</p> +<p> +To remain young is one of the difficulties +of being agreeable. Whoever +does so is obliged to adopt the Aristotelian +maxim of moderation, Placidity +of temper is necessary to the clear-pencilled +eyebrow and the magnolia +complexion. Frowns, weeping, excitement, +despair and laughter wrinkle the +face. Nature keeps women's forms well +rounded to extreme old age, and their +faces remain agreeable when they take +the trouble to keep them so. The brow, +the fair front, need never be furrowed. Of +all we meet in the street, very few have +tranquil, undistorted faces: the old are +screwed out of shape, the young are going +to be so. A well-preserved beauty +is one who neither puckers her face into +wrinkles nor mauls it with her hands: +she never buries her knuckles in her +cheeks, nor rests cheek on palm or +chin on hand, nor folds her fingers +around her forehead while reading, nor +rubs her "argent-lidded eyes." She +veils her face from the wind; she does +not work with uncovered neck and arms: +therefore they do not become tawny. She +avoids immoderate toil, which makes the +hair to fall, the features sharp, the skin +clammy and yellow. She avoids immoderate +laziness, as causing obesity +and a greasy complexion or pallor, lassitude +and loss of vitality. Such are; +the difficulties of being agreeable.</p> + +<p class="author">M. D.</p> +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>OUR SUB-GARDENER.</h3> +<p> +He who doubts that civilized progress +and industry is beneficial to birds, and +promotes their comfort and multiplication, +never saw the robin and the purple +grakle following the plough on a summer's +morning. The ploughman is not +more punctually afield than his unbidden +but welcome feathered attendants. They +are ahead of him, perched patiently in the +trees that dot fence or hedgerow. They +see the team afar off, and as the gate +rattles in opening for its admission the +glad tidings is sent down the line in +whistle or chirrup, the most musical of +breakfast-bells. The worm that but for<a name="page256" id="page256"></a><span class="left">[page 256]</span> +the intrusive ploughshare would blush +unseen beneath the soil, and but for the +feathered detective on the lookout for +him would regain his subterranean retreat, +might take a less cheery view of +the philosophy of the matter; but he too +is, taken collectively, favored by tillage +and fattens on high-farming like an English +squire. But we are not at present +occupied with his feelings. Somebody +must suffer in the battledore game of +eat and be eaten, and we shall let the +chain of continuous destruction rest here +with the grub that reaps where he hath +not sown. Horse, man and bird are +honestly and harmoniously picking up +a living at the expense of a fourth party +that also thrives in the long run.</p> +<p> +Not many of us get out with the plough +at the orthodox hour of sunrise. It is +a privilege few, comparatively, possess, +and fewer still enjoy. The doctors recommend +it warmly, on the ground that, +though perhaps productive of rheumatism, +it is death to dyspepsia. The faculty +have, however, on this point piped +to us in vain, and it is not at all in consequence +of their advice that those who +luxuriate in early agriculture adopt that +system of hygiene, any more than the +birds, who, as we have remarked, are +first up and out, and who, at this season, +in flat defiance of all medical rules, +adopt a purely animal diet. Later, long +after Lent, their food is varied with fruits +and seeds, but never to such an extent +as to amount to vegetarianism. This carnivorous +taste ranks high in the "charm +of earliest birds" so interesting to the +cultivator. He, as a rule, is not wrapped +up in the strawberry or the cherry that +in the fulness of time comes to be levied +on, in very moderate percentage, by a +few of his musical associates. We do +not forget that the blackbird has a weakness +for planted maize, and that the quota +of the cornhill is very truly and safely +stated in the doggerel—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<p>One for de blackbird, one for de crow,</p> +<p>Two for de cut-worm, and two for to grow.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> +The cut-worm is here correctly defined +as the enemy, while the excise claimed +by the birds is head-money for his extirpation. +An adaptation of this instructive +couplet to gardening for the guidance of +those of us who do not farm, but garden +in a small way, would naturally enlarge +the allowance of the cut-worm. From +the more limited demesne the crow and +the grakle are generally excluded. What +is their loss is the cut-worm's gain. Nowhere +does he run (or burrow) riot more +successfully than in old gardens. Living +in darkness, from an apparent consciousness +that his deeds are evil, he +seems to be fully advised of all that +goes on above ground. One would fancy +that he has a complete system of subterranean +telegraphs, like those coming +into vogue in Europe. He learns within +a few hours or minutes of every new lot +of plants sprouting from the seed or set +out from the hotbed. Upon both he sets +systematically to work, following his row +with a precision and thoroughness at once +admirable and exasperating. You go out +of a May afternoon, and with the tenderest +care establish in their summer homes +your very choicest plants. Reverse "One +counted them at break of day, and when +the sun set where were they?" and the +tale that greets you the next morning is +told. Did the spoiler need them for food, +you would be partly reconciled to his proceedings, +or at least would know how to +frame some sort of an excuse for them. +But he merely divides the succulent stem +close to the surface of the ground, above +or below, and leaves the wreck unutilized +even by him. A comfort is that flight is +not his forte. He is generally to be found +by the exploring penknife or trowel close +by the scene of his crime, and is thus +easily subjected to condign punishment. +But his wife, family and friends survive +in different spots of the adjacent underworld, +to give evidence of their existence +only in subsequent havoc. The titillative +rake or the peremptory hoe does +not help you much in their discovery; +for their color is that of the soil, their +size as various as that of bits of gravel, +and they are not easily perceptible to a +cursory glance from the ordinary height +of the eye. Here is where keener optics +than yours, sharpened perhaps by a +keener impulse—that of the stomach—come +to the rescue. The catbird, whose<a name="page257" id="page257"></a><span class="left">[page 257]</span> +imploring mew you listened to from your +bed some time before thinking proper to +respond to it, is intently watching operations +from the other end of the border +or the square. His lusty youngsters have +been trained, after the good old fashion, to +early hours, and they are impatient for +breakfast. Their parent sees what you +do not, and astonishes you by suddenly +pouncing upon a bit of earth you have +just broken and seizing a stout worm. +This stranger, if presentable to the family +circle, he is at once off with, his +spouse taking his place in the field. Or +the youngsters may still be <i>in futuro</i>. +All the same: whatever turns up is welcome +to him. His appetite seems as insatiable +as that of half a dozen nestlings: +they, you know, will eat three or four +times their own weight in twelve hours. +He is thus immensely useful to you, but +your appreciation of that fact is as nothing +to his estimate of your value to him. +He accepts you as a being sent for his +benefit. You are a part of his scheme +of providence. True, he pities while he +rejoices over you. Your blindness and +stupidity in not seeing the fat and luscious +tidbits he snaps up from almost +beneath your feet is of course a subject +of wonder and disdain. But he learns to +make allowances for you, and comes to +view your failings charitably, especially +as they enure to his benefit, and so lean to +Virtue's side. Fear of you he has none. +Indeed, you inspire in him a certain +sense of protection, for in your presence +his habitual vigilance is lulled, and his +apprehensive glances over his right and +left shoulders fall to a lower figure per +minute. He has learned there to feel +safe from hawk and cat, and knows +enough of other birds to be sure that +none of them will "jump" his little +claim of fifty feet square whereof you +are the moving centre. His individual +audacity gives him the sway of that +small empire, and he doubts not that +you will support him in acting up to the +motto of the Iron Crown of the Lombards. +His cousin the robin may, and very probably +does, hover on the outskirts, but an +exact distance measures the comparative +boldness and familiarity of the two species. +The catbird is, say, ten yards more +companionable than his red-vested relative +in the latter's most genial and trustful +mood; and his faith is of a more robust +type and less easily and permanently +weakened by rebuffs. The robin rarely +hovers round you, but likes to have the +whole premises quietly to himself. His +attachment does not take a personal hue, +but is rather to locality. His acquaintanceship +with you is never so intimate as +that of the catbird, who soon recognizes +your step, your dress and the peculiar +touch and cadence of your hoe, even as +a college oarsman will identify the stroke +of a chum or a rival a quarter of a mile +off. If the robin does fix your individuality +in his mind, he deigns to make +no sign thereof. At most he accepts you +as part of the mechanism of creation. +You make no draft upon his bump of +reverence. He does not set you on his +Olympus. This mark of the spirit which +makes him, on the whole, a more respectable +and dignified character than his less +gayly-dressed cousin tends in some sense +to commend him the less to you, since we +all like the homage of the "inferior animals," +birds or voters. You half dislike +the independence of the robin, who is +equally at home in the parterre or the forest, +on the gravel-walk or in the upper air. +On the other you have more hold. He is +rarely seen higher than twenty feet above +ground, and is strictly an appendage of the +shrubbery and the orchard. Even in his +unhappy voice there is a domestic tone, +closely imitated as it is from Grimalkin. +Imitated, we say, for we have never been +able fully to believe that this mew is the +bird's original note. We shall ever incline +to the impression that it is an acquired +dialect, picked up in the mere wantonness +born of a conscious and exceptional +power of mimicry. </p> + +<p class="author">E. C. B.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>A NEW AND INDIGNANT ITALIAN POET.</h3> +<p> +Mrs. Leo Hunter's selection of an +"Expiring Frog" as a subject for poetical +composition has lately been surpassed +by a new Italian poet. The latter, +Signer Giovanni Rizzi, has just published +at Milan a small volume of sonnets, +chiefly ironical in character, in which he<a name="page258" id="page258"></a><span class="left">[page 258]</span> +gives vent to his disgust at the positive +and materialistic tendencies of the present +day. The theme of the three most +remarkable among these productions is +that useful but not very æsthetic animal, +the hog.</p> +<p> +Signer Rizzi is the professor of literature +at the military school and the high +school for girls in Milan. Not long ago +his three sonnets to the hog—or, more +literally, the boar (<i>maiale</i>)—appeared in +an Italian journal called <i>Illustrazione +Italiana</i>, prefaced by a letter to the editor, +in which the author stated that as +apes, toads and caterpillars have now +been triumphantly introduced into literature, +he no longer felt any hesitation +about bringing forward in the same way +his esteemed friend the boar. These three +pieces, together with others of the same +form and character, have now been published +as a book under the title of <i>Un +Grido</i>. This work begins with an address +to the reader, in which the poet +laments the prevailing tendency of public +opinion, and protests against what he +considers a determined war on all old +and honored beliefs and feelings, and +a substitution therefor of a vague and +revolting materialism. Then come five +sonnets to Pietro Aretino, the witty poet +and scoffer of the Renaissance era. Aretino +is invited to reappear among men, for +the world, says Rizzi, has again become +worthy of such a man's presence. Leaving +Dante to Jesuits, and Beatrice to +priests, it has made Aretino its favorite +model, and has, consequently, said +farewell to everything resembling shame. +In the last of these five sonnets the poet +addresses his beloved thus: "And we +too, O Love! do we still keep holy honor, +home, faith, prayer, truth and noble sorrow?"</p> +<p> +After the five sonnets to Aretino come +the three to the boar (<i>Al Maiale</i>) which +have already been mentioned. Here the +author enters into a mock glorification of +that animal, and declares himself ready +to give up all pretensions to any superiority +over it. He proceeds to "swear +eternal friendship" with it, and offers it +his hand to solemnize the compact; but, +suddenly remembering that such old-fashioned +practices must be very distasteful +to his new friend, he immediately +apologizes for having conformed +to such a ridiculous old prejudice. He +does not expect his "long-lost brother" +to make any effort to elevate himself or +to change his swinish nature in any particular, +but thinks we should all bring +ourselves down to the boar's mental +and physical level as soon as we can. +The closing verses of the third sonnet +may be freely rendered as follows:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>And when, at last, the grave shall close above us,</p> + <p class="i2">No solemn prayer our resting-place should hallow,</p> + <p>No flowers be strewn by hands of those that love us.</p></div> +<div class="stanza"> + <p>But if, at times, you'll come where we are lying,</p> + <p class="i2">O worthy friend! upon our graves to wallow,</p> + <p>That thought should give us joy when we are dying.</p> +</div> +</div> +<p> +The last piece in this little collection +is addressed to "The Birds of my Garden" +<i>(Agli Uccelletti del mio Giardino)</i>. +Though inferior to the others in boldness +and originality of conception, it is much +more graceful and attractive, and shows +that the writer is by no means deficient +in elegance of style and delicacy of +treatment.</p> +<p> +Signor Rizzi may, it is probable, be +taken as a type of a large class among +his countrymen, to which the iconoclastic +tendencies of our time seem strange and +horrible. Indeed, it is possible that he is +one of the earliest heralds of a widespread +reaction in opinion and feeling throughout +his native land. At any rate, his +poems can hardly fail to become popular, +and to produce some effect among +a people so susceptible to the influences +of witty and sarcastic poetry as are the +Italians even at this day. </p> + +<p class="author">W. W. C.</p> +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>A NEZ PERCÉ FUNERAL.</h3> +<p> +"Call me, Washington, when they are +going to bury him," said the doctor.</p> +<p> +George Washington, evidently not quite +sure that he understood the doctor, said +with an interrogative glance, "You like—see +him—dead man—put in ground?" +And, pointing downward and alternately +bending and extending one knee, he +made a semblance of delving.</p> +<p> +The doctor nodded.</p> +<p> +"Good! Me tell you."</p> +<a name="page259" id="page259"></a><span class="left">[page 259]</span> +<p> +"I want to go, Washington," said the +lieutenant.</p> +<p> +"And I too," said the lieutenant's +guest, myself.</p> +<p> +George Washington was one of the +Nez Percé prisoners surrendered by Joseph +to General Miles after the battle of +Bear-Paw Mountain. The dead man +was one of the wounded in that action +who died from his wounds, aggravated, +no doubt, by fatigue and exposure while +the prisoners were marching to the east +in the winter of 1877 under orders from +the War Department. George spoke a +few words of English, and was quite an +intelligent Indian. He was very clean—for +an Indian—and was comfortably +clad.</p> +<p> +"How soon?" asked the doctor.</p> +<p> +"He—call me—when he ready: me +call you."</p> +<p> +"Good! Then I shall go to dinner."</p> +<p> +"We had better eat our dinner," said the +lieutenant: "it is growing late.—Come +and have some dinner, Washington."</p> +<p> +Washington seemed not quite sure that +he understood correctly. He had a modest +distrust of his English. In the matter +of an invitation to dinner doubt is admissible. +"You—want <i>me</i>—" here George +Washington tapped himself on the savage +breast—"eat—with <i>you</i>?" And +here, gracefully reversing his hand, with +the index extended, he touched the lieutenant +on the civilized bosom.</p> +<p> +"Yes: come in."</p> +<p> +We three entered the tent. As it was +an ordinary "A" tent, with a sheet-iron +stove in it, it was pretty full with the addition +of two good-sized white men and +an Indian of no contemptible proportions. +The lieutenant and I sat on the +blankets, camp-fashion: Washington sat +on my heavy riding-boots, with the stove +perforce between his legs.</p> +<p> +"Good wahrrm!" ejaculated George +Washington, hugging the stove.</p> +<p> +"Hustleburger!" shouted the lieutenant.</p> +<p> +"Yes, sir."</p> +<p> +"George Washington will take dinner +with us. Set the table for three."</p> +<p> +"All right, sir, lieutenant!"</p> +<p> +"Good man—docther," Washington +remarked, nodding several times to emphasize +his observation: "ver'—good +man—docther."</p> +<p> +We eagerly assented, pleased to see +that the Indian appreciated the doctor's +kindness to his people.</p> +<p> +Rabelais's quarter of an hour began to +hang heavily on us. Washington was +equal to the occasion: taking a survey +of the tent, he nodded approvingly and +remarked, "Good tepee."</p> +<p> +"Not bad this weather."</p> +<p> +"Good eyes!" said Washington in a +burst of enthusiasm.</p> +<p> +These two simple words in their Homeric +immensity of expression meant all +this: "The fire made on the ground in +our Indian lodges fills them with continual +smoke, and consequently we Indians +suffer very much from sore eyes. Now, +your little stove, while it warms the tent +much better than a fire, does not smoke, +and your eyes are not injured."</p> +<p> +Our habitual table, a small box, was +not constructed on the extension plan. +It would not accommodate three. So +Hustleburger handed directly to each +guest a tin cup of macaroni soup. Washington +disposed of the liquid in a very +short time, but the elusive nature of the +macaroni rather troubled him. We showed +him how to overcome its slippery tendency. +Smacking his lips, he said, with +a broad smile, "Good! What you call +him?"</p> +<p> +"Macaroni."</p> +<p> +"Maclony? Good! Maclony—maclony." +he continued, repeating the word +to fix it in his memory.</p> +<p> +Our only vegetable was some canned +asparagus. Washington was delighted +with it after he had been initiated into +the mystery of its consumption. He did +not stop at the white. "What you call—<i>him</i>?"</p> +<p> +"Asparagus."</p> +<p> +"Spalagus—spalagus? Goo-oo-d!"</p> +<p> +"Did you never eat asparagus before, +Washington?"</p> +<p> +"Never eat him—nev' see him. Spalagus—spalagus! +Goo-oo-d!"</p> +<p> +Hustleburger now brought in the dessert, +which consisted of canned currant-jelly, +served in the can. Each guest<a name="page260" id="page260"></a><span class="left">[page 260]</span> +helped himself from the original package, +using a "hard tack" for a dessert-plate, +<i>more antiquo</i>. Washington was +bidden to help himself. Before doing +so, however, he wished to test the substance +placed before him, and, taking a +little on the end of his spoon, he carried +it to his lips. Then an expression of intense +enjoyment overspread his dusky +face; his black eyes sparkled like diamonds; +his full lips were wreathed in a +smile. "Ah! goo-oo-oo-d!" he cried, +with a mouthful of <i>o</i>'s. "What you call +<span class="sc">him</span>?"</p> +<p> +"Jelly."</p> +<p> +"Yelly? Ah! yelly goo-oo-ood! Me—like—yelly—much." +And he helped +himself plentifully.</p> +<p> +A smell of burning woollen became +unpleasantly noticeable. Washington +still had the stove between his legs: it +was red-hot. He never moved, but ate +"yelly."</p> +<p> +"Washington, you're burning!" cried +the lieutenant.</p> +<p> +Washington smiled. "Much wah-r-rum!" +he remarked in the coolest manner +possible.</p> +<p> +"Throw open the front, then."</p> +<p> +A long, shrill cry now rang through +the silence and the darkness. Washington +jumped up suddenly, ran out of +the tent, and uttered a cry in response +so similar that it might pass for an echo +of the first. Then, returning, he said, +"He call. He—ready—put—dead man—down. +Come! Me—come back—eat—yelly."</p> +<p> +Fortunately, the Indian camp was not +far off. The night was pitch-dark. Led +by Washington, we got through the thick +underbrush without much trouble. The +grave was dug near the water's edge, +where the Missouri and the Yellowstone, +meeting, form an angle. A large fire of +dry cottonwood at the head of the grave +fitfully lit up the dismal scene. A bundle +of blankets and buffalo-robes lay by the +open grave. Some Indians of both sexes +with bowed and blanketed heads stood +near it. Washington was evidently awaited. +As soon as he appeared a little +hand-bell was rung, and a number of +dark, shrouded figures with covered faces +crept forth like shadows from the lodges +throughout the camp and crowded around +the grave, a mute and gloomy throng.</p> +<p> +The bell was rung again, and the +dark crowd became motionless as statues. +Then Washington in a mournful +monotone repeated what I supposed to +be prayers for the dead. At the end of +each prayer the little bell was rung and +responses came out of the depths of the +surrounding darkness. Then the squaws +chanted a wild funeral song in tones of +surpassing plaintiveness. At its close the +bell tinkled once more, and the figures +that surrounded the grave vanished as +darkly as they came. Washington, one +or two warriors and ourselves alone remained.</p> +<p> +"You like—see—him—dead man?" +asked Washington.</p> +<p> +The question was addressed to me.</p> +<p> +I never want to look on a dead face +if I can avoid it; so with thanks I declined. +Washington seemed a little disappointed, +as if he considered we showed +a somewhat uncourteous want of interest +in the deceased. Noticing this, the +lieutenant said he would like to see the +dead man's face, and, preceded by Washington, +we moved toward the bundle of +blankets and buffalo-robes that lay by +the side of the grave. Washington threw +back the buffalo-robes, and a bright gleam +of the cottonwood fire disclosed the upturned +face of the dead Nez Percé and +lightened up the long, thick locks of +glossy blue-black hair. It was the face +of a man about thirty—bold, clear-cut +features and long, aquiline nose: a good +face and a strong face it seemed in death.</p> +<p> +When we had looked upon the rigid +features a few moments, Washington +covered the face of his dead brother. +The body, coffined in blankets and +skins, was placed in the grave, and the +men began to throw the earth upon it.</p> +<p> +"That's—all," said Washington. +"Come!"</p> +<p> +And he moved away toward our tent.</p> +<p> +He seemed to think some apology +necessary for the simplicity of the ceremonial. +"If," said he, "Chapman [the +interpreter]—he tell—we sleep here +to-morrow—we put dead man—in ground—when<a name="page261" id="page261"></a><span class="left">[page 261]</span> +sun he ver' litt'; an' Yoseph he +come—an' you come—an' I come—all +come—white man an' Injun."</p> +<p> +"He was a fine-looking young man," +I remarked, alluding to the dead Indian.</p> +<p> +Washington was pleased by the compliment +to his departed brother. He stopped +short, and, turning toward me, said, +"Yes, he fine young man—good man—good +young man."</p> +<p> +"I thought he was rather an oldish +man," remarked the lieutenant.</p> +<p> +"No, no," replied Washington, touching +his head—"all black hairs—no white +hairs. Good young man."</p> +<p> +And Washington led the way back toward +the lieutenant's tent, saying, "Let +us go—eat up—yelly."</p> + +<p class="author">J. T.</p> +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<h3>REFORM IN VERSE.</h3> +<p> +A want of the day is some good fugitive +poetry: bad is superabundant. The +demand is for short and telling effusions +in plain, direct and intelligible English, +speaking to feelings possessed by everybody, +and placing incidents, scenes +and creatures, familiar or exceptional, +in a poetic light, bright and warm rather +than fierce or dazzling. The millions are +waiting to be stirred and charmed, and +will be very thankful to the singer who +shall do it for them. Studied obscurity +of thought and language, verbal finicalities +and conceits, and mere ingenuities +of any kind, rhythmic, mental or sentimental, +will not meet the occasion: that +sort of thing is overdone already. It is +the "swollen imposthume" of refinement, +an excrescence on culture, a penalty of +which we have suffered enough. The +Heliconian streams which are not deep, +but only dark, must run dry if they cannot +run clear. Sparkling and pellucid +rills, wherein we can all see our own-selves +and trace our own dreams, irradiated +with light like the flickering of +gems, and set off with rich foil, are those +to attract the popular eye. Genuine humor, +pathos, elevation and delicacy of +fancy seek no disguise, but aim at the +utmost simplicity of expression. Inversions, +like affectation in every shape, are +foreign to them. True songsters, like the +birds, warble to be heard, understood and +loved, and not to astonish or puzzle.</p> +<p> +We read the other day, duly headed +"For the —— ——," and signed with +the contributor's name and place of residence, +Wolfe's well-known lines to his +wife, the one good thing preserved of +him, and better, in our humble judgment, +than those on the burial of Moore. +The wearer of borrowed plumes was obviously +confident that his theft would not +be detected, readers of to-day having +been so long unfamiliar with poetry of +that character as to be sure to set it down +as original and hail the reviver of it as a +new light. Perhaps he may turn out to +have been right in that impression, and +figure as the herald, if not an active inaugurator, +of a new era of taste in verse. +He cannot remain the only practical asserter +of the theory that it is better to +steal good poetry than to write bad. +Should his followers, however, shrink +from downright theft, they might consent +to shine as adapters. Some who are masters +of English undefiled might help the +cause by translating some of the best bits +of Browning, Swinburne and Rossetti, +to say nothing of Tennyson, who has +gradually constructed a dialect of his +own and trained us to understand it.</p> +<p> +By fugitive poetry we mean the work +of those usually classed as song-writers +and lyrists, leaving out the big guns, if +we have had any of the latter tribe since +Milton, who was himself strongest in +short poems. Most modern poets have +made their début in the periodical press, +and those who did not have shown a +painful tendency to run to epic. The +age respectfully declines epics.</p> +<p> +We should not despair of the suggested +revival. Ours is not the first period +that has suffered under the dealers in +<i>concetti</i>. They have had things somewhat +their own way before—in the century +which included Spenser and Donne, +for instance. Our euphuists may pass +away like those of the Elizabethan era, +or, like the best of them, live in spite of +faults with which they were gratuitously +trammelled.</p> + +<p class="author">E. B.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<a name="page262" id="page262"></a><span class="left">[page 262]</span> + + + + +<h2>LITERATURE OF THE DAY.</h2> +<br /><br /> +<h3> +Bits of Travel at Home. By H. H. Boston: +Roberts Brothers.</h3> +<p> +The author's present home we should incline +to fix in Colorado, but she includes +New England and California in her travels, +and finds something beautiful to describe +wherever she goes within those broad limits. +The Yosemite, the Big Trees, the Mormons, +the Chinese, the snow-sheds, drawing-room +cars, agates, prairie-and mountain-flowers, +New Hampshire life and scenery, and an infinity +of like material, are readably, and not +incongruously, presented in her little book. +Population is so sparse and Nature so redundant +in the scene of most of her descriptions +as to render them sometimes a little +lifeless, and oblige her to depend too solely +upon her powers of landscape painting +with the pen. We miss the human element, +as we do in the vast, however luxuriant, pictures +of Bierstadt and Moran—artists who +preceded her on the same sketching-ground. +Not that she fails to make the most of what +Nature places before her. Rather, she makes +too much of it, and lavishes whole pages on +truthful, minute and vivid, but bewildering, +detail of mountain, river, rock, plain, plants +and sea. She is enraptured, for example, +with Lake Tahoe and with the wild flowers +of California and Colorado, and enables us to +understand why she is so; but the raptures +are not shared by the reader, partly for the +very reason that they are so elaborately explained. +Printer's ink, when used as a pigment +or pencil, should be used sparingly, +with a few, sharp, clear, bold touches, and +without painful finish or niggling. What +amplification would not weaken instead of +heightening the effect of "the copse-wood +gray that waved and wept on Loch Achray"? +Breadth, distance and atmosphere are obscured +by H. H.'s carefully itemized foregrounds. +But the itemizing is done admirably +and con amore by one who is a botanist, +a poet and an observer. The Great Desert +is no desert to her: no square foot of it is +barren. Even the sage-brush has a charm, +if only from its dim likeness to a miniature +olive tree, both being glaucous and hoary. +An oasis of irrigated clover on Humboldt +River is made a theme for an idyl. The +vast rocks, when bare even of moss, are at +least rich and various in tint and form, and +have plenty of meaning to her.</p> +<p> +A traveller between Omaha and San Francisco +might well carry this pocket volume as +a lorgnette. It will show him what he might +otherwise miss, and make more visible to him +what he sees. It belongs to a high class of +railroad literature, and is in style and matter +so full of movement as to suggest the railway +to readers by the fireside.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> +<h3> +Putnam's Art Handbooks. New York: G. P. +Putnam's Sons.</h3> +<p> +This series of manuals for beginners with +pencil and palette will include five small +books. The two before us treat of "Landscape +Painting" and "Sketching from Nature." +Both are old acquaintances, reprinted +respectively from the thirty-fourth and +thirty-eighth London editions. When they +first came under our eye, more years ago +than we need state, they bore the imprint +of a London firm of color-dealers, and were +loaded down with advertisements and less +direct recommendations of their wares to an +extent that rather obscured the valuable and +interesting part of the publications. This +rubbish has been swept away in the American +edition, so that the tyro can get at what +he needs to know more readily, and use it +with more confidence, than when he was +puzzled to distinguish between solid instruction +and hollow puffery. The notes added +by the American editor are very scant, and +yet so sensible as to enhance one's regret +at their paucity and meagreness. Directions +for the use of pigments and vehicles +well enough adapted for the English climate +may require modification for ours. Moreover, +British artists have not unfrequently, +in their methods, shown themselves too prone +to sacrifice durability to immediate effect. The +list of colors has, too, been enriched by some +accessions within the past third of a century +which demand mention. Such points should +be considered in a new edition of the brochure +on landscape painting. Generally speaking, +it is a good guide, and may safely be placed +in the hands of the young colorist.</p> +<p> +The sketcher from Nature will find in the<a name="page263" id="page263"></a><span class="left">[page 263]</span> +other a succinct set of rules clearly stated. +He will not need much else if he has a +good hand and eye, and the industry and +perseverance to use them. He has first to +render objects and scenes by simple lines; +and to assist him in that the elementary laws +of perspective are here laid before him. Some +mechanical appliances, such as a small frame +that may be carried in the pocket, divided by +equidistant wires, vertical and horizontal, and +serving, when held before the eye, to fix the +relative situation of points in the view, we do +not find alluded to. Perhaps they are as well +let alone, as corks have been abandoned in +the swimming-school.</p> +<p> +When the series is completed the whole +may well be bound together. Smaller type, +thinner paper and less margin would make a +book readily portable, containing all that is indispensable +to the student, and a good deal besides +that the maturer artist will be none the +worse for being reminded of. One who has +attained some little facility with the pencil +might adopt it as a sufficient mentor in the +field or in the studio, and accept its guidance +in a path to be perfected by his own powers, +according to their measure, toward such pleasure, +elevation of taste or fortune as art offers. +Studies abound everywhere. The ruins, arched +bridges and picturesque dwellings and other +erections of Europe are but slenderly to be +regretted by the American beginner. He +has no lack of clouds, rocks, trees, houses, +etc., embracing within their contours every +possible line and shade. He may even +learn precision of line and tint better than +his Transatlantic brother, who is apt to be +tempted into carelessness by the ragged variety +and indecision of the objects offered by +his surroundings and nearly unknown here. +The broken and wandering touch suggested +by the jagged stones of a crumbling castle is +not that which one should begin by cultivating. +Breadth and firmness in form, color +and chiaroscuro are attainments to be first +held in view, and never to be lost sight of.</p> +<p> +We have often wondered that the <i>technique</i> +of art should have so meagre a literature. Its +philosophy and poetry have employed many +pens, and been exhaustively analyzed, but +this has been mostly the work of outsiders—of +critics devoid even of the qualification +laid down by Disraeli of having failed in +the practical exploitation of the field they +discuss, but for all that often powerful critics. +Artists have rarely been able to paint +their pictures in black and white and run +them through the press. They cannot so +display the infinite gradations that grow +upon their canvas, nor trace in words the +subtle principles which have presided at +the birth of their works and of every part +of them. General rules they can lay down, +as poets can the elements of their own trade; +but these rules are at the command of the +veriest daub or rhymester; the manifold development +of them to results almost divine +remaining, even to those who achieve it in +either walk, evasive and untraceable. The +masters of verse and art have mapped out for +us none of their secrets. The deductions we +make from their practice are our deductions, +not theirs. Raffaelle, if questioned, could +only point to his palette spread with the +common colors, and Homer had not even +pen and ink. Our versifiers are provided +with admirable paper and gold pens, and +our artists, young and old, with the colors +Elliott once told an inquirer he made his +marvellous flesh-tints with—red, blue and +yellow.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> +<h3> +Adventures of a Consul Abroad. By Luigi +Monti. Boston: Lee & Shepard.</h3> +<p> +This is a didactic or illustrative story, with +a moral we find thus laid down on the last +page: "Our government sends men abroad +who, after hard labor and long experience, +learn a complicated, delicate and responsible +profession; and no sooner have they +learned it, and are able to perform creditably +to themselves and the government they +represent all its intricate duties, than they are +recalled and replaced by inexperienced men, +who have to go through the same ordeal, and +never stay long enough to be of real service +to their country."</p> +<p> +The gentleman upon whose shadowy shoulders +is placed the heavy task of pointing this +dictum is Samuel Sampleton, Esq., teacher +of a private seminary on Cape Cod, who +gets tired of the young idea and seeks more +profitable and expanded fields of labor. He +has not, at the outset, the slightest preparation +for the duties of the position—that of United +States consul at Verdecuerno (a translation of +Palermo into "Greenhorn")—or even knowledge +of what they are. His utter lack of information +in the premises is indeed quite exceptional, +especially in a New England teacher. +We should have expected an average lad +of fourteen in any part of the Union to have<a name="page264" id="page264"></a><span class="left">[page 264]</span> +suspected that a consul would need some +acquaintance with the language of the people +among whom he was stationed, if not +some slight notion of the general routine and +purposes of the office. Mr. Sampleton, however, +is not lacking in shrewdness and energy, +and sets to work manfully, despite the difficulties +of his situation, general and special. +After several trying years, the comical tribulations +of which are graphically set forth, +he is just beginning to feel himself at home +when he is summarily placed there in another +sense by recall. He comes back as +poor as he went, save in experience and the +languages, and resumes the ferule with the +determination not again to abandon it for +the pen of the public employé.</p> +<p> +It is chiefly to the social side of consular +life that Mr. Monti introduces us, and most +of the scenes belong to that aspect. The +salary, no longer eked out by fees and other +perquisites, is much inferior to the emoluments +of other consuls at the same port, and the +American representative is consequently entirely +outshone by his colleagues of other +nationalities. A considerable degree of diplomatic +style is expected from the corps, +and kept up by all but himself. In dinners, +equipages, buttons and gold lace, and display +of every kind, not merely France, England +and Russia, but Denmark and Turkey, leave +him deep in the shade. They have consular +residences, large offices and reading-rooms, +with secretaries, interpreters and the other +paraphernalia of a small embassy, while +Jonathan nests, with his wife, on the third +or fourth flat of a suburban rookery, and +uses his dining-room for an office. The +sea-captains grumble at having to seek him +in such a burrow, and being accorded nothing +when they get there beyond the barest +official action. He cannot interchange courtesies +with the magnates of the city, and thus +places himself and the interests of his country, +so far as that often potent means of influence +goes, at a great disadvantage. A pompous +commodore brings an American squadron +into port, and is ineffably disgusted at +finding his consul utterly unable to do the +honors or in any way assist the cruise.</p> +<p> +Our author holds that the compensation of +these mercantile and quasi-diplomatic agents +ought to be largely increased, it being now +inadequate as measured either by their labor +and responsibility or by the allowances made +by other nations, our commercial rivals. Certainly, +additional pay in any reasonable proportion +would be but a trifle in comparison +with the result should it promote the rise of +our marine from its present unprecedented +state of depression. If consuls will create, +or recreate, shipping, and reintroduce the +American flag to the numerous foreign ports +to which it is becoming each year more and +more a stranger, let us by all means have +them everywhere and at liberal salaries, with +quant. suff. of clerks, assistants, flunkeys, +dress-suits for dinner-parties and court-suits +for state receptions, and all the other +necessaries of an efficient consulate, the want +whereof so vexed the soul of Mr. Sampleton. +And then let us make fixtures of these gentlemen, +with good behavior for their tenure of +office, and in the selection of them endeavor +to apply abroad the test it seems next to +impossible to adhere to at home—honesty, +capacity and fidelity.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<h3><i>Books Received</i>.</h3> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">The Bible for Learners</span>. By Dr. H. Oort +and Dr. I. Hooykaas. Volume II. From +David to Josiah, from Josiah to the supremacy +of the Mosaic Law. Authorized +Translation. Boston: Roberts Brothers.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">A Vision of the Future</span>: A Series of Papers +on Canon Farrar's "Eternal Hope." By +Various Divines. (No. 3 of the International +Religio-Science Series.) Detroit: +Rose-Belford Publishing Co.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">The Cincinnati Organ</span>, with a Brief Description +of the Cincinnati Music Hall. +Edited by George Ward Nichols. Cincinnati: +Robert Clarke & Co.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Protection and Revenue in 1877</span>. By William +G. Sumner. (Economic Monographs, +No. 8.) New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Hallock's American Club List</span> and Sportsman +Glossary. By Charles Hallock. New +York: Forest and Stream Publishing Co.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Shooting Stars</span>, as observed from the "Sixth +Column" of the <i>Times</i>. By W. L. Alden. +New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Christ, His Nature and Work</span>: A Series of +Discourses by Eminent Divines. New +York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Poganuc People</span>: Their Loves and Lives. +By Harriet Beecher Stowe. New York: +Fords, Howard & Hurlbert.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Children of Nature</span>. By the Earl of Desart. +Toronto: Rose-Belford Publishing Co.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Francisco: A Poem</span>. By William Watrous. +San Francisco: A. L. Bancroft & Co.</p> +<p class="indent1"> +<span class="outdent1">Aspirations of the World</span>. By L. Maria +Child. Boston: Roberts Brothers.</p> + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<p> +<b>Transcriber's Note</b>: The page numbers for pages 161 and 162 are switched due to placement +of the image in the original. Only the illustration was on page 161, and the text after it until +the page marker for 163 is really on page 162. +</p> + + + +<br /><br /><hr class="short" /><br /><br /><br /> + +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + + + +<a name="chromatic_sequence"></a> +<img src="images/192-1.png" width="335" height="48" alt="chromatic_sequence1" border="0" /> + + +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<img src="images/192-2.png" width="396" height="45" alt="chromatic_sequence2" border="0" /> + <a href="#chromatic_sequencer">return</a> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + +<img src="images/192-greek.png" width="132" height="51" alt="chrôma" border="0" /> +<a name="greek-192"></a><a href="#r192-greek">return</a> +<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine, Vol. 22, +August, 1878, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + +***** This file should be named 18885-h.htm or 18885-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/8/8/18885/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Lesley Halamek and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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